
BLACK BEAUTY 


BY 

ANNA SEWELL 

EDITED FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS BY 

EDWARD R. SHAW 

& 

UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY 

NEW YORK: 43-47 East Tenth Street 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


BY 

ANNA SEWELL 


n 


EDITED FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS 

BY 

EDWARD R. SHAW, Ph.D. 

DEAN OF THE SCHOOL OF PEDAGOGY, NEW YORK UNIVERSITY 



NEW YORK 


Gf-iusy' 



6726 


*** 1968 


Copyright, 1S98, by 

UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY 









PREFATORY NOTE. 


Anna Seweli/s remarkable story of the horse, “Black 
Beauty," possesses great interest for boys and girls alike. 

In the educational studies which have recently been made 
with reference to children^ interests in books, it appears * 
that “ Black Beauty" ranks among the first of the books 
most frequently cited by children between certain ages. 

The revelation of this fact from the data gathered in those 
investigations has disclosed nothing especially new, but has 
confirmed, emphasized, and rendered more reliable for edu- 
cational guidance a conclusion which many teachers had 
already reached from their own personal observation and ex- 
perience in introducing this book into the class-room. 

Ever since its publication “ Black Beauty " has been gain- 
ing in favor as a book for reading in schools. Its larger 
adoption, however, has unquestionably been retarded by the 
unsuitable and poorly printed editions of the book. There 
has been, then, for a long time, an urgent need of an edition 
of this book well printed and in type of good size. The 
preparation and issuance of the story in this form is designed 
to meet that need. 

In examining the book with the aim of putting it in as 
attractive, usable, and acceptable a form as possible, the ex- 
perience of many teachers who had used the book was sought. 

In this there was a marked agreement that the story would 
gain in value for school use if it were more compact. In 
accordance with this opinion, there has been a judicious and 
carefully studied emendation of those parts which extended 


3 


4 


PREFATORY NOTE. 


the story unduly, and prevented that swifter movement of 
the narrative which seems to he advisable for class reading. 

At the same time certain necessary and evident correc- 
tions and changes in the text have been made, entirely with 
a view of putting this charming biography of a horse into 
still more perfect form, and thereby enlarging the mission 
of influence for good which the intrinsic ethical qualities 
of the story carry with it on every hand. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Introduction 7 

PART I. 

CHAPTER 

I. My Early Home 9 

II. The Hunt 12 

III. My Breaking In 16 

IV. Birtwick Park 22 

V. A Fair Start 26 

VI. Liberty 30 

VII. Ginger 33 

VIII. Ginger’s Story Continued 39 

IX. Merrylegs 44 

X. A Talk in the Orchard 48 

XI. A Stormy Day 55 

XII. The Devil’s Trade Mark 59 

XIII. James Howard 63 

XIV. The Old Ostler 68 

XV. The Fire 72 

XVI. John Manly’s Talk 77 

XVII. Going for the Doctor 82 

XVIII. Only Ignorance 88 

XIX. Joe Green 91 

XX. The Parting . 95 

PART II. 

XXI. Earlshall 99 

XXII. A Strike for Liberty 104 

XXIII. The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse .... 109 

XXIV. Reuben Smith 117 

XXV. How It Ended ... 122 


5 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

XXVI. 

Ruined, and Going Downhill . 




PAGE 

. 126 

XXVII. 

A Job Horse and His Drivers . 


# 

# 

. 129 

XXVIII. 

Cockneys 




. 134 

XXIX. 

A Thief 




. 141 

XXX. 

A Humbug 




. 145 

XXXI. 

PART jp . 

A Horse Fair .... 




. 149 

XXXII. 

A London Cab Horse . 




. 154 

XXXIII. 

An Old War Horse . 




. 157 

XXXIV. 

The Sunday Cab .... 




. 164 

XXXV. 

The Golden Rule 




. 168 

XXXVI. 

Polly and a Real Gentleman . 




. 173 

XXXVII. 

Poor Ginger 




. 178 

XXXVIII. 

Election Day .... 




. 181 

XXXIX. 

Jerry’s New Year 




. 188 

XL. 

PART IV. 

Jakes and the Lady . 




. 196 

XLI. 

Hard Times 




. 201 

XLII. 

Farmer Thoroughgood and His Grandson Willie 

. 207 

XLIII. 

My Last Home .... 




. 212 


INTRODUCTION. 


The higher conception of the school as an institution for 
the upbuilding of character, now fortunately obtaining wider 
recognition among teachers, reveals itself in various ways, 
which he who discerns the better signs of the times may 
clearly see. One of the ways in which this higher conception 
of the school manifests itself is seen in the introduction into 
the classes of reading matter having an unmistakable ethical 
content. It is recognized that character is deeply affected 
by literature, and that all pupils, even those in the first school 
year, may be brought under its influence. The more difficult 
question, however, is to ascertain what is the literature which 
will best appeal to the interest of children in the various 
years of school life. Happily, the sincere purpose and care- 
ful search of American teachers is disclosing each year new 
material towards the solution of this question. “ Black 
Beauty,” it seems pretty generally agreed upon, is adapted 
to the fourth school year. 

The ethical influenoe of “Black Beauty” is so great that 
it should be read in every school. Its interest for children 
comes from its strong appeal to their imagination through 
the giving of personal qualities to horses as human charac- 
ters, and endowing them with speech and the power to reason 
about their own life and treatment by man. In this man- 
ner so much of human experience is put into the story that 
it becomes to the cliild a revelation in character. These 
horses look at their own affairs and talk and reason about 
them as human beings would. Some of them see what is 


7 


8 


INTRODUCTION. 


best for them and conduct themselves in accordance with 
this perception ; while others fail to control themselves, are 
too often in rebellion, and consequently make their life too 
hard. The noble traits of character exhibited by Black 
Beauty, even under hardship, are contrasted with those of 
Ginger, and through the contrast the child sees that, as in 
Ginger’s case, the hardships and friction of life are in part 
made worse by temper, vindictiveness, wilful determination, 
and a lack of conciliation. All this gives the child material 
out of which he constructs his own ideals and standards of 
character. 

The story is rich in the suggestions it gives and the lessons 
it conveys of practical common sense, in picturing the emer- 
gencies of life and how these are met. It reveals the beau- 
tiful relations of family life among hard-working and obscure 
people, and holds up an ideal here that must be potent for 
good. 

The book, moreover, shows very clearly that the doing of 
right brings its reward, while the doing of wrong or the neg- 
lect to do one’s work well is punished in the end. Honesty 
is emphasized, dishonesty is at last found out, and deceit 
fails. It conveys all this to the child without any attempt 
at its formal inculcation. 

Finally, the story stirs the feelings of the child in a whole- 
some manner, makes him more responsive to human needs and 
more ready to render service in all the relations of life with 
tolerance and help for his fellows, and quickens him to kind- 
ness of heart. It gives the child a new conception of the 
rights of horses and the reasons why they should be treated 
with kindness. Feelings of kindness towards animals cannot 
exist without producing a kindlier feeling of heart and atti- 
tude of mind towards all mankind. 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


* 


PART I. 

CHAPTER I. 

MY EARLY HOME. 

The first place tliat I can well remember was a 
large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in 
it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and 
water-lilies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge 
on one side we looked into a ploughed field, and on 
the other we looked over a gate at our master’s 
house, which stood by the roadside. At the top of 
the meadow was a grove of fir trees, and at the 
bottom a running brook overhung by a steep bank. 

There were six young colts in the meado^v be- 
sides me. They were older than I was. Some 
were nearly as large as grown-up horses. I used 
to run with them, and had great fun. We used 
to gallop all together round and round the field 
as hard as we could go. Sometimes we had rather 


9 


10 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


rough play, for they would frequently bite and 
kick as well as gallop. 

One day, when there was a good deal of kicking, 
my mother whinnied to me to come to her, and then 
she said : 

“ I wish you to pay attention to what I am going 
to say to you. The colts who live here are very 
good colts, but they are cart-horse colts, and, of 
course, they have not learned manners. You have 
been well-bred and well-born. Your father has a 
great name in these parts, and your grandfather 
won the cup two years at the Newmarket races. 
Your grandmother had the sweetest temper of any 
horse I ever knew, and I think you have never seen 
me kick or bite. I hope you will grow up gentle 
and good, and never learn bad ways. Do your 
work with a good will, lift your feet up well when 
you trot, and never bite or kick, even in play.” 

I have never forgotten my mother’s advice. I 
knew she was a wise old horse, and our master 
thought a great deal of her. Her name was Duch- 
ess, but he often called her Pet. 

Our master was a good, kind man. He gave us 
good food, good lodging, and kind words. He 
spoke as kindly to us as he did to his little children. 
We were all fond of him, and my mother loved him 
very much. When she saw him at the gate, she 


MY EARLY HOME. 


11 


would neigli witli joy, and trot up to him. He 
would pat and stroke her and say, “Well, old Pet, 
and how is your little Darkie ? ” I was of a dull 
black color, so he called me Darkie. He would 
give me a piece of bread, which was very good, and 
sometimes he brought a carrot for my mother. All 
the horses would come to him, but I think we were 
his favorites. My mother always took him to the 
town on a market day in a light gig. 

There was a ploughboy, Dick, who sometimes 
came into our field to pick blackberries from the 
hedge. When he had eaten all he wanted, he 
would have, what he called, fun with the colts, 
throwing stones and sticks at them to make them 
gallop. We did not much mind him, for we could 
gallop off; but sometimes a stone would hit and 
hurt us. 

One day he was at this game, and did not know 
that the master was in the next field watching what 
was going on. Over the hedge he jumped in a 
snap, and catching Dick by the arm, he gave him 
such a box on the ear as made him roar with pain 
and surprise. As soon as we saw the master, we 
trotted up nearer to see what was going on. 

“ Bad boy ! ” he said, “ bad boy ! to chase the 
colts. This is not the first time, nor the second, but 
it shall be the last. There — take your money and 


12 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


go home. I shall not want you on my farm again.” 
So we never saw Dick any more. Old Daniel, the 
man who looked after the horses, was just as gentle 
as our master, so we were well off. 


CHAPTER II. 

THE HUNT. 

Before I was two years old, a circumstance hap- 
pened which I have never forgotten. It was early 
in the spring. There had been a little frost in the 
night, and a light mist still hung over the woods 
and meadows. I and the other colts were feeding 
at the lower part of the field when we heard, quite 
in the distance, what sounded like the cry of dogs. 
The oldest of the colts raised his head, pricked up 
his ears, and said, “ There are the hounds ! ” Imme- 
diately he cantered off, followed by the rest of us to 
the upper part of the field, where we could look over 
the hedge and see several fields beyond. My mother 
and an old riding horse of our master’s were also 
standing near, and seemed to know all about it. 

“ They have found a hare,” said my mother, “ and 
if they come this way we shall see the hunt.” 

And soon the dogs were all tearing down the field 
of young wheat next to ours. I never heard such a 


THE HUNT. 


13 


noise as they made. They did not bark, nor howl, 
nor whine, but kept on a “ yo ! yo, o, o ! yo ! yo, o, 
o !” at the top of their voices. After them came a 
number of men on horseback, some of them in green 
coats, all galloping as fast as they could. The old 
horse snorted and looked eagerly after them, and we 
young colts wanted to be galloping with them, but 
they were soon away into the fields lower down. 
Here it seemed as if they had come to a stand. The 
dogs left off barking, and ran about every way with 
their noses to the ground. 

“ They have lost the scent,” said the old horse ; 
* perhaps the hare will escape.” 

“ What hare ? ” I said. 

“ Oh ! I don’t know what hare. Likely enough it 
may be one of our own hares out of the woods. Any 
hare they can find will do for the dogs and men to 
run after.” Before long the dogs began their “ yo ! 
yo, o, o ! ” again, and back they came altogether at 
full speed, making straight for our meadow at the 
part where the high bank and hedge overhang the 
brook. 

“ Now we shall see the hare,” said my mother. 
And just then a hare wild with fright rushed by, 
and made for the woods. On came the dogs. They 
burst over the bank, leaped over the stream, and 
came dashing across the field, followed by the hunts- 


14 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


men. Six or eight men leaped their horses clean 
over, close upon the dogs. The hare tried to get 
through the fence. The fence was too thick, and so 
she turned sharp round to make for the road, but it 
was too late. The dogs were upon her with their 
wild cries. We heard one shriek, and that was the 
end of her. One of the huntsmen rode up and 
whipped off the dogs, which would soon have torn 
her to pieces. He held her up by the leg, torn and 
bleeding, and all the gentlemen seemed well pleased. 

As for me, I was so astonished that I did not at 
first see what was going on by the brook. But 
when I did look, there was a sad sight. Two fine 
horses were down ; one was struggling in the stream, 
and the other was groaning on the grass. One of 
the riders was getting out of the water covered with 
mud, the other lay quite still. 

“ His neck is broken,” said my mother. 

“And served him right, too,” said one of the 
colts. 

I thought the same, but my mother did not join 
with us. 

“Well, no,” she said, “you must not say that. 
Although I am an old horse, and have seen and 
heard a great deal, I never yet could make out why 
men are so fond of this sport. They often hurt 
themselves, often spoil good horses, and tear up the 


THE HUNT. 


15 


fields, and all for a liare, or a fox, or a stag, that 
they could get more easily some other way. But 
we are only horses, and don’t know.” 

Whilst my mother was saying this, we stood and 
looked on. Many of the riders had gone to the 
young man. My master, who had been watching 
what was going on, was the first to raise him. His 
head fell back and his arms hung down, and every 
one looked very serious. There was no noise now. 
Even the dogs were quiet, and seemed to know that 
something was wrong. They carried him to our 
master’s house. I heard afterwards that it was 
young George Gordon, the Squire’s only son, a fine, 
tall young man, and the pride of his family. 

There was now riding off in all directions to the 
doctor’s, to the farrier’s, and no doubt to Squire 
Gordon’s, to let him know about his son. When 
Mr. Bond, the farrier, came to look at the black 
horse that lay groaning on the grass, he felt him all 
over, and shook his head. One of his legs was 
broken. Then some one ran to our master’s house 
and came back with a gun. Presently there was a 
loud bano* and a dreadful shriek, and then all was 
still ; the black horse moved no more. 

My mother seemed much troubled. She said she 
had known that horse for years, and that his name 
was “ Rob Roy.” He was a good horse, and there 


16 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


' was no vice in him. She never would go to that 
part of the field afterwards. 

Not many days after, we heard the church-bell 
tolling for a long time. Looking over the gate, w r e 
saw a long strange black coach that was covered 
with black cloth and was drawn by black horses. 
After that came another and another and another, 
and all were black, while the bell kept tolling, toll- 
ing. They were carrying young Gordon to the 
churchyard to bury him. He would never ride 
again. What they did with Rob Roy I never knew ; 
but ’twas all for one little hare. 


CHAPTER III. 

MY BREAKING IN. 

I was now beginning to grow handsome. My 
coat had grown fine and soft, and was bright black. 
I had one white foot, and a pretty white star on my 
forehead. I was thought very handsome. My mas- 
ter would not sell me till I was four years old. He 
said lads ought not to work like men, and colts 
ought not to work like horses till they were quite 
grown up. 

When I was four years old, Squire Gordon came 
to look at me. He examined my eyes, my mouth, 


MY BREAKING IN. 


17 


and my legs. He felt them all down. Then I had 
to walk and trot and gallop before him. He seemed 
to like me, and said, “When he has been well 
broken in, he will do very well.” My master said 
he would break me in himself, as he should not like 
me to be frightened or hurt, and he lost no time 
about it, for the next day he began. 

Every one may not know what breaking in is ; 
therefore I will describe it. It means to teach a 
horse to wear a saddle and bridle, and to carry on 
his back a man, woman, or child ; to go just the 
way they wish, and to go quietly. Besides this, he 
has to learn to wear a collar, a crupper, and a 
breeching, and to stand still whilst they are put on. 
Then to have a cart or a chaise fixed behind, so that 
he cannot walk or trot without dragging it after 
him. And he must go fast or slow, just as his 
driver wishes. He must never start at what he 
sees, nor speak to other horses, nor bite, nor kick, 
nor have any will of his own. He must always do 
his master’s will, even though he may be very tired or 
hungry. The worst of all is, that when his harness 
is once on, he may neither jump for joy nor lie 
down for weariness. So you see this breaking in is 
a great thing. 

I had, of course, long been used to a halter and a 
headstall, and to be led about in the field and lanes 
2 


18 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


quietly. Now I was to have a bit and bridle. My 
master gave me some oats as usual, aud after a good 
deal of coaxing lie got the bit into my mouth, and 
the bridle fixed, but it was a bad thing ! Those 
who have never had a bit in their mouths cannot 
think how it feels. A great piece of cold, hard 
steel as thick as a man’s finger is pushed into one’s 
mouth, between one’s teeth, and over one’s tongue. 
The ends come out at the corner of one’s mouth, 
and are held fast there by straps over the head, 
under the throat, round the nose, and under the 
chin, so that no way in the world can one get rid 
of the hard thing. It is very bad ! yes, very bad ! 
at least I thought so. But I knew my mother 
always wore one when she went out, and all horses 
did when they were grown up. So, what with the 
nice oats, and what with my master’s pats, kind 
words, and gentle ways, I got to wear my bit and 
bridle. 

Next came the saddle, but that was not half so 
bad. My master put it on my back very gently, 
whilst old Daniel held my head. He then made 
the girths fast under my body, patting and talking 
to me all the time. Then I had a few oats, then a 
little leading about. He did this every day till I 
began to look for the oats and the saddle. At 
length, one morning, my master got on my back and 


MY BREAKING IN. 


19 


rode me round tlie meadow on the soft grass. It 
certainly did feel queer. But I must say I felt 
rather proud to carry my master, and as he contin- 
ued to ride me a little every day, I soon became 
accustomed to it. 

The next unpleasant business was putting on the 
iron shoes. That too was very hard at first. My 
master went with me to the smith’s forge, to see 
that I was not hurt or frightened. The blacksmith 
took my feet in his hand, one after another, and 
cut away some of the hoof. It did not pain me, 
so I stood still on three legs till he had done them 
all. Then he took a piece of iron the shape of my 
foot, and drove some nails through it quite into my 
hoof, so that the shoe was firmly on. My feet felt 
very stiff and heavy, but in time I got used to it. 

And now having got so far, my master went on 
to break me to harness. There were more new 
things to wear. First, a stiff, heavy collar just on 
my neck, and a bridle with great side-pieces against 
my eyes, called blinders. Indeed they were blinders, 
for I could not see on either side, but only straight in 
front of me. Next, there was a small saddle with a 
stiff strap t]iat went right under my tail. That was 
the crupper. I hated the crupper, — to have my long 
tail doubled up and poked through that strap was 
almost as bad as the bit. I never felt more like 


20 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


kicking, but, of course, I could not kick suck a good 
master. So in time I got used to everything, and 
could do my work as well as my mother. 

I must not forget to mention one part of my train- 
ing, which I have always considered of very great 
advantage. My master sent me for a fortnight to a 
neighboring farmer’s, who had a meadow which was 
skirted on one side by the railway. Here were 
some sheep and cows, and I was turned in amongst 
them. 

I shall never forget the first train that ran by. I 
was feeding quietly near the fence which separated 
the meadow from the railway, when I heard a 
strange sound at a distance. Before I knew whence 
it came, — with a rush and a clatter, and a puffing out 
of smoke, — a long train flew by. It was gone almost 
before I could draw my breath. I turned and gal- 
loped to the farther side of the meadow as fast as I 
could go, and there I stood snorting with astonish- 
ment and fear. In the course of the day many 
other trains went by, some more slowly. Now and 
then a train drew up at the station close by, and 
sometimes made an awful shriek and groan before 
it stopped. I thought this very dreadful, but the 
cows went on eating very quietly, and hardly raised 
their heads as the black, frightful thing came puffing 
and grinding past. 


MY BREAKING IN. 


21 


For tlie first few days I could not feed in peace. 
But as I found that this terrible creature never came 
into the field, or did me any harm, I began to dis- 
regard it, and very soon I cared as little about the 
passing of a train as the cows and sheep did. 

Since then I have seen many horses much alarmed 
and restive at the sight or sound of a steam engine. 
But thanks to my good master’s care, I am as fear- 
less at railway stations as in my own stable. 

Now, if any one wants to break in a young horse 
well, that is the way. 

My master often drove me in double harness with 
my mother, because she was steady and could teach 
me how to go better than a strange horse. She told 
me the better I behaved, the better I should be 
treated, and that it was wisest always to do my best 
to please my master. “ But,” said she, “ tkere are a 
great many kinds of men. There are good, thought- 
ful men like our master, that any horse may be 
proud to serve. And there are bad, cruel men, who 
never ought to have a horse or a dog to call their 
own. Besides, there are a great many foolish men, 
vain, ignorant, and careless, who never trouble them- 
selves to think. Such men spoil many horses, just 
for want of sense. They don’t mean to do it, but 
they do it for all that. I hope you will fall into 
good hands. But a horse never knows who may 


22 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


buy him, or wlio may drive him. It is all chance 
for us. Still I say, do your best wherever it is, and 
keep up your good name.” 

CHAPTER IV. 

BIRTWICK PARK. 

At this time I used to stand in the stable, and my 
coat was brushed every day till it shone like a 
rook’s wing. Early in May there came a man from 
Squire Gordon’s, who took me away to the Hall. 
My master said, “ Good-by, Harkie ; be a good horse, 
and always do your best.” I could not say “ good- 
by,” so I put my nose into his hand. He patted me 
kindly, and thereupon I left my first home. As I 
lived several years with Squire Gordon, I may as 
well tell something about the place. 

Squire Gordon’s park skirted the village of Birt- 
wick. It was entered by a large iron gate, at which 
stood the first lodge. From this a smooth road ran 
between clumps of large old trees. Then there was 
another lodge and another gate, which brought one 
to the house and the gardens. Beyond this lay the 
home paddock, the old orchard, and the stables. 
There was accommodation for many horses and car- 
riages; but I need only describe the stable into 


BIRTWICK PARK. 


23 


which I was taken. This was very roomy, with 
four good stalls. A large swinging window opened 
into the yard, which made the stable pleasant and 
airy. 

The first stall was a large square one, shut in be- 
hind with a wooden gate; the others were good 
stalls, but not nearly so large. My stall had a low 
rack for hay and a low manger for corn. It was 
called a loose box, because the horse that was put 
into it was not tied up, but left loose, to do as he 
liked. It is a great thing to have a loose box. 

Into this fine box the groom put me. It was 
clean, sweet, and airy. The sides were not so high 
but that I could see all that went on through the 
iron rails that were at the top. 

He gave me some very nice oats, he patted me, 
spoke kindly, and then went away. 

When I had eaten my corn I looked round. In 
the stall next to mine stood a little fat gray pony, 
with a thick mane and tail, a very pretty head, and 
a pert little nose. 

I put my head up to the iron rails at the top of 
my box, and said, “ How do you do ? What is your 
name ? ” 

He turned round as far as his halter would allow, 
held up his head, and said, “ My name is Merrylegs. 
I am very handsome. I carry the young ladies on 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


24 

my back, and sometimes I take our mistress out in 
tlie low ckair. They think a great deal of me, and 
so does James. Are you going to live next door to 
me in the box ? ” 

I said, “Yes.” 

“Well, then,” he said, “I hope you are good-tem- 
pered ; I do not like any one next door who bites.” 

Just then a horse’s head looked over from the 
stall beyond. The ears were laid back, and the eye 
looked rather ill-tempered. This was a tall chestnut 
mare, with a long handsome neck. She looked 
across to me and said : 

“ So it is you who have turned me out of my box. 
It is a very strange thing for a colt like you to come 
and turn a lady out of her own home.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” I said. “ I have turned no 
one out. The man who brought me put me here, and 
I had nothing to do with it. And as to my being a 
colt, I am turned four years old, and am a grown-up 
horse. I never had words yet with horse or mare, 
and it is my wish to live at peace.” 

“Well,” she said, “we shall see. Of course, I do 
not want to have words with a young thing like 
you.” I said no more. 

In the afternoon, when she went out, Merrylegs 
told me all about it. 

“ The thing is this,” said Merrylegs. “ Ginger has 


BIRTWICIv PARK. 


25 


a bad habit of biting and snapping. That is why 
they call her Ginger, and when she was in the loose 
box, she used to snap very much. One day she bit 
James in the arm and made it bleed, and so Miss 
Flora and Miss Jessie, who are very fond of me, 
were afraid to come into the stable. They used to 
bring me nice things to eat, an apple, a carrot, or 
a piece of bread, but after Ginger stood in that box, 
they dared not come, and I missed them very much. 
I hope they will now come again, if you do not bite 
or snap.” 

I told him I never bit anything but grass, hay, 
and corn, and could not think what pleasure Ginger 
found it. 

“ Well, I don’t think she does find pleasure,” said 
Merrylegs. “ It is just a bad habit. She says no one 
was ever kind to her, and why should she not bite ? 
Of course, it is a very bad habit. But I am sure, if 
all she says is true, she must have been very ill-used 
before she came here. John does all he can to 
please her, and James does all he can, and our mas- 
ter never uses a whip if a horse acts right; so I 
think she might be good-tempered here. You see,” 
he said with a wise look, “ I am twelve years old. I 
know a great deal, and I can tell you there is not a 
better place for a horse all round the country than 
this. John is the best groom that ever was. He has 


26 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


been here fourteen years. And you never saw such 
a kind boy as James is, so that it is all Ginger’s own 
fault that she did not stay in that box.” 


CHAPTER Y. 

A FAIR START. 

The name of the coachman was John Manly. He 
had a wife and one little child, and they lived in the 
coachman’s cottage, very near the stables. 

The next morning he took me into the yard and 
gave me a good grooming, and just as I was going 
into my box, with my coat soft and bright, the 
Squire came in to look at me, and seemed pleased. 
“John,” he said, “T meant to have tried the new 
horse this morning, but I have other business. You 
may as well take him around after breakfast. Go 
by the common and the Highwood, and back by the 
watermill and the river ; that will show his paces.” 

“ I will, sir,” said John. After breakfast he came 
and fitted me with a bridle. He was very particular 
in letting out and taking in the straps, to fit my 
head comfortably. Then he brought a saddle, but 
it was not broad enough for my back. He saw it in 
a minute and went for another, which fitted nicely. 
He rode me first slowly, then on a trot, then a can- 


A FAIR START. 


27 


ter, and when we were on the common he gave me a 
light touch with his whip, and we had a splendid 
gallop. 

“ Ho, ho ! my boy,” he said, as he pulled me up, 
“ you would like to follow the hounds, I think.” 

As we came back through the park we met the 
Squire and Mrs. Gordon walking. They stopped, 
and John jumped off. 

“Well, John, how does he go?” 

“ First-rate, sir,” answered John. “ He is as fleet as 
a deer, and has a fine spirit, too, but the lightest 
touch of the rein will guide him. Down at the end 
of the common we met one of those traveling carts 
hung all over with baskets, rugs, and such like. You 
know, sir, many horses will not pass those carts 
quietly; he just took a good look at it, and then 
went on as quiet and pleasant as could be. They 
were shooting rabbits near the High wood, and a gun 
went off close by ; he pulled up a little and looked, 
but did not stir a step to right or left. I just held 
the rein steady and did not hurry him, and it’s my 
opinion he has not been frightened or ill-used while 
he was young.” 

“ That’s well,” said the Squire ; “ I will try him 
myself to-morrow.” 

The next day I was brought up for my master. I 
remembered my mother’s counsel and my good old 


28 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


master’s, and I tried to do exactly what he wanted 
me to do. I found he was a very good rider, and 
thoughtful of his horse too. When he came home, 
the lady was at the hall door as he rode up. 

“Well, my dear,” she said, “how do you like 
him ? ” 

“He is exactly what John said,” he replied. “A 
pleasanter creature I never wish to mount. What 
shall we call him ? ” 

“Would you like Ebony? ” said she. “He is as 
black as ebony.” 

“ No, not Ebony.” 

“Will you call him ‘ Blackbird,’ like your uncle’s 
old horse ? ” 

“ No, he is far handsomer than old Blackbird ever 
was.” 

“Yes,” she said, “he is really quite a beauty, and 
he has such a sweet, good-tempered face and such a 
line, intelligent eye — what do you say to calling him 
‘ Black Beauty ’ ? ” 

“ Black Beauty ? — why, yes, I think that is a very 
good name. If you like, it shall be his name ; ” and 
so it was. 

When John went into the stable, he told James 
that master and mistress had chosen a good, sensi- 
ble English name for me that meant something ; not 
like Marengo, or Pegasus, or Abdallah. They both 


A FAIR START. 


29 


lauglied, and James said, “ If it was not for bringing 
back the past, I should have named him ‘ Rob Roy,’ 
for I never saw two horses more alike.” 

u That’s no wonder,” said John. “ Didn’t you know 
that farmer Grey’s old Duchess was the mother of 
them both ? ” 

I had never heard that before. And so poor Rob 
Roy who was killed at that hunt was my brother ! 
I do not wonder that my mother was so troubled. 
It seems that horses have no relations ; at least they 
never know each other after they are sold. 

John seemed very proud of me. He used to make 
my mane and tail almost as smooth as a lady’s hair, 
and he would talk to me a great deal. Of course, I 
did not understand all he said, but I learned more 
and more to know what he meant , and what he 
wanted me to do. I grew very fond of him, he was 
so gentle and kind. He seemed to know just how a 
horse feels, and when he cleaned me he knew the 
tender places and the ticklish places. When he 
brushed my head, he went as carefully over my eyes 
as if they were his own, and never stirred up any 
ill-temper. 

James Howard, the stable boy, was just as gentle 
and pleasant in his way, so I thought myself well 
off. There was another man who helped in the yard, 
but he had very little to do with Ginger and me. 


30 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


A few days after this I had to go out with Ginger 
in the carriage. I wondered how we should get on 
together; but except laying her ears back when I 
was led up to her, she behaved very well. She did 
her work honestly, and did her full share, and I 
never wish to have a better partner in double 
harness. 

As for Merrylegs, he and I soon became great 
friends. He was such a cheerful, plucky, good-tem- 
pered little fellow, that he was a favorite with every 
one, and especially with Miss Jessie and Flora, who 
used to ride him about in the orchard, and have fine 
games with him and their little dog Frisky. 

Our master had two other horses that stood in 
another stable. One was Justice, a roan cob, used 
for riding, or for the luggage cart ; the other was 
an old brown hunter, named Sir Oliver. He was 
past work now, but was a great favorite with the 
master, who gave him the run of the park. 


CHAPTER VI. 

LIBERTY. 

I was quite happy in my new place, and if there 
was one thing that I missed, it must not be thought 
I was discontented. All who had to do with me 


LIBERTY. 


31 


were good, and I liad a light, airy stable and the 
best of food. What more could I want? Why, 
liberty ! For three years and a half of my life I had 
had all the liberty I could wish. But now, week 
after week, month after month, and no doubt year 
after year, I must stand up in a stable night and 
day except when I am wanted, and then I must be 
just as steady and quiet as any old horse who 
has worked twenty years. Straps here and straps 
there, a bit in my mouth, and blinders over my eyes. 

Now, I am not complaining, for I know it 
must be so. I mean only to say that for a young 
horse full of strength and spirits, who has been 
used to some large field or plain, where he can fling 
up his head, and toss up his tail and gallop away at 
full speed, then round and back again with a snort 
to his companions, — I say it is hard never to have 
any more liberty to do as one likes. 

Sometimes, when I have had less exercise than 
usual, I have felt so full of life and spring, that 
when John has taken me out to exercise I really 
could not keep quiet. Do what I would, it seemed 
as if I must jump, or dance, or prance, and many a 
good shake I know I must have given him, especially 
at the first ; but he was always good and patient. 

“ Steady, steady, my boy,” he would say ; “ wait a 
bit, and we’ll have a good swing, and soon get the 


32 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


tickle out of your feet.” Then as soon as we were 
out of the village, he would give me a few miles at 
a spanking trot, and then bring me back as fresh as 
before, only clear of the fidgets, as he called them. 
Spirited horses, when not enough exercised, are often 
called skittish, when it is only play. Some grooms 
will punish theln, but our John did not. He knew it 
was only high spirits. Still, he had his own Avays 
of making me understand by the tone of his voice 
or the touch of the rein. If he was very serious 
and quite determined, I always knew it by his voice, 
and that had more power with me than anything 
else, for I was very fond of him. 

I ought to say that sometimes we had our liberty 
for a few hours. This used to be on fine Sundays in 
the summer-time. The carriage never went out on 
Sundays, because the church was not far off. 

It was a great treat to us to be turned out into 
the home paddock or the old orchard ; the grass was 
so cool and soft to our feet, the air so sweet, and the 
freedom to do as we liked was so pleasant — to gal- 
lop, to lie down, and roll over on our backs, or to 
nibble the sweet grass. Then it was a very good 
time for talking, as we stood together under the 
shade of the large chestnut tree. 


GINGEll. 


33 


CHAPTER VII. 

GINGER. 

One day when Ginger and I were standing alone 
in tlie shade, we had a long talk. She wanted to 
know all about my bringing up and breaking in, 
and I told her. 

“Well,” said she, “ if I had had your bringing up, 
I might have had as good a temper as you, but now 
I don’t believe I ever shall.” 

“ Why not ? ” I said. 

“ Because it has all been so different with me,” 
she replied. “ I never had any one, horse or man, 
that was kind to me, or that I cared to please. In 
the first place, I was taken from my mother as soon 
as I was weaned, and put with a lot of other young 
colts. None of them cared for me, and I cared for 
none of them. There was no kind master like yours 
to look after me, and talk to me, and bring me nice 
things to eat. The man that had the care of us 
never gave me a kind word in my life. I do not 
mean that he ill-used me, but he did not care for us 
one bit further than to see that we had plenty to 
eat, and shelter in the winter. 

“ A footpath ran through our field, and very often 
3 


34 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


the great boys passing through would fling stones to 
make us gallop. I was never hit, but one fine young 
colt was badly cut in the face, and I should think it 
would be a scar for life. W e did not care for them, 
but, of course, it made us more wild, and we settled it 
in our minds that boys were our enemies. We had 
very good fun in the free meadows, galloping up and 
down and chasing each other round and round the 
field ; then standing still under the shade of the trees. 

“But when it came to breaking in, that was a 
bad time for me. Several men came to catch me, 
and when at last they closed me in at one corner 
of the field, one caught me by the forelock, another 
caught me by the nose and held it so tight I could 
hardly draw my breath. Another took my under 
jaw in his hard hand and wrenched my mouth open, 
and so by force they got on the halter and the bit 
into my mouth. Then one dragged me along by the 
halter, another flogging behind, and this was the 
first experience I had of men’s kindness. It was all 
force. They did not give me a chance to know 
what they wanted. I had a great deal of spirit, and 
was very wild, no doubt, and gave them, I dare say, 
plenty of trouble. But then it was dreadful to be 
shut up in a stall day after day instead of having 
my liberty, and I fretted and pined and wanted to 
get loose. 


GINGER. 


35 


u There was one — the old master, Mr. Ryder — 
who, I think, could soon have brought me round, 
and could have done anything with me. But he had 
given up all the hard part of the trade to his son 
and to another experienced man, and he only came 
at times to oversee. His son was a strong, tall, bold 
man. They called him Samson, and he used to 
boast that he had never found a horse that could 
throw him. There was no gentleness in him, as 
there was in his father, but only hardness — a hard 
voice, a hard eye, a hard hand. And I felt from 
the first that what he wanted was to wear all the 
spirit out of me, and just make me into a quiet, 
humble, obedient piece of horse-flesh. ‘ Horse-flesh ! ’ 
Yes, that is all that he thought about,” and Ginger 
stamped her foot as if the very thought of him 
made her angry. Then she went on : 

“If I did not do exactly what he wished, he 
would get put out, and make me run round with 
that long rein in the training field till he had tired 
me out. I think he drank a good deal, and I am 
quite sure that the oftener he drank the worse it 
was for me. One day he had worked me hard in 
every way he could, and when I lay down I was 
tired, and miserable, and angry ; it all seemed so 
hard. 

“ The next morning he came for me early, and ran 


36 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


me round again for a long time. I had scarcely 
had an hour’s rest, when he came again for me with 
a saddle and bridle and a new kind of bit. I could 
never quite tell how it came about. He had only 
just mounted me on the training ground, when some- 
thing I did put him out of temper, and he jerked 
me hard with the rein. The new bit was very pain- 
ful, and I reared up suddenly, which angered him 
still more, and he began to flog me. I felt my whole 
spirit set against him, and I began to kick, and 
plunge, and rear as I had never done before, and we 
had a terrible struggle. He stuck to the saddle for 
a long time and punished me cruelly with his whip 
and spurs, but my blood was thoroughly up, and I 
cared for nothing he could do if only I could get 
him off. At last I threw him off backwards. I 
heard him fall heavily on the turf, and without 
looking behind me, I galloped off to the other end 
of the field. There I turned round and saw my per- 
secutor slowly rising from the ground and going 
into the stable. I stood under an oak tree and 
watched, but no one came to catch me. 

“ The time went on, and the sun was very hot. The 
flies swarmed round me and settled on my bleeding 
flanks where the spurs had dug in. I felt hungry, 
for I had not eaten since the early morning, but there 
was not enough grass in that meadow for a goose to 


GINGER. 


37 


live on. I wanted to lie down and rest, but with 
the saddle strapped tightly on, there was no com- 
fort, and there was not a drop of water to drink. 
The afternoon wore on, and the sun got low. I saw 
the other colts led in, and I knew they were having 
their feed. 

“ At last, just as the sun went down, I saw the 
old master come out with a sieve in his hand. He 
was a very tine old gentleman with quite white hair, 
but his voice was what I should know him by 
amongst a thousand. It was not high, nor yet low, 
but full, and clear, and kind, and when he gave or- 
ders it was so steady and decided, that every one 
knew, both horses and men, that he expected to be 
obeyed. He came quietly along, now and then shak- 
ing the oats about that he had in the sieve, and 
speaking cheerfully and gently to me : ‘ Come along, 
lassie, come along, lassie; come along, come along.’ 
I stood still and let him come up. He held the oats 
to me, and I began to eat without fear. His voice 
took all my fear away. He stood by, patting and 
stroking me whilst I was eating, and seeing the 
clots of blood on my side, he seemed very vexed. 
‘Poor lassie ! it was a bad business, a bad busi- 
ness ! ’ 

“ Then he quietly took the rein and led me to 
the stable. Just at the door stood Samson. I laid 


38 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


my ears back and. snapped at him. 4 Stand back/ 
said the master, 4 and keep out of her way ; you’ve 
done a bad day’s work for this filly.’ He growled 
out something about a vicious brute. 4 Hark ye ! ’ 
said the father. 4 A bad-tempered man will never 
make a good-tempered horse. You’ve not learned 
your trade yet, Samson.’ 

44 Then he led me into my box, took off the saddle 
and bridle with his own hands, and tied me up. He 
called for a pail of warm water and a sponge, took 
off his coat, and while the stable-man held the pail, 
he sponged my sides a good while, so tenderly that 
I was sure he knew how sore and bruised they were. 
4 Whoa ! my pretty one,’ he said, 4 stand still, stand 
still.’ His very voice did me good, and the bathing 
was very comfortable. The skin was so broken at 
the corners of my mouth that I could not eat the 
hay ; the stalks hurt me. He looked closely at it, 
shook his head, and told the man to fetch a good 
bran mash and put some meal into it. How good 
that mash was ! and so soft and healing to my 
mouth. He stood by all the time I was eating, 
stroking me and talking to the man. 4 If a high- 
mettled creature like this,’ said he, 4 can’t be broken 
in by fair means, she will never be good for any- 
thing.’ 

44 After that he often came to see me, and when 


GINGER. . 


39 


my mouth was healed, the other breaker, Job, they 
called him, went on training me. He was steady 
and thoughtful, and I soon learned what he wanted.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

ginger’s story continued. 

The next time that Ginger and I were together in 
the paddock, she told me about her first place. 

“ After my breaking in,” she said, “ I was bought 
by a dealer to match another chestnut horse. For 
some weeks he drove us together, and then we were 
sold to a fashionable gentleman, and were sent up 
to London. I had been driven with a check-rein by 
the dealer, and I hated it worse than anything else. 
In this place, however, we were reined far tighter — 
the coachman and his master thinking we looked 
more stylish so. We were often driven about in the 
Park and other fashionable places. You who never 
had a check-rein on don’t know what it is, but I can 
tell you it is dreadful. 

“ I like to toss my head about, and hold it as high 
as any horse. But fancy now yourself, if you tossed 
your head up high and were obliged to hold it there, 
and that for hours together, not able to move it at 
all, except with a jerk still higher, your neck aching 


40 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


till you did not know kow to bear it. Besides that, 
to have two bits instead of one; and mine was a 
sharp one. It hurt my tongue and my jaw, and the 
blood from my tongue colored the froth that kept 
flying from my lips, as I chafed and fretted at the 
bits and rein. It was worst when we had to stand 
by the hour waiting for our mistress at some grand 
party or entertainment. If I fretted or stamped 
with impatience, the whip was laid on. It was 
enough to drive one mad.” 

“Did not your master take any thought for 
you ? ” I said. 

“No,” said she, “ he only cared to have a stylish 
turn-out, as they call it. I think he knew very little 
about horses. He left that to his coachman, who 
told him I had an irritable temper ; that I had not 
been well broken to the check-rein, but I should 
soon get used to it. He, however, was not the man 
to do it, for when I was in the stable, miserable and 
angry, instead of being soothed and quieted by kind- 
ness, I got only a surly word or a blow. If he had 
been civil, I would have tried to bear it. I was will- 
ing to work, and ready to work hard too ; but to be 
tormented for nothing but their fancies angered me. 
What right had they to make me suffer like that ? 
Besides the soreness in my mouth, and the pain in 
my neck, it always made my windpipe feel bad. 


GINGER. 


41 


“ If I had stopped there long, I know it would have 
spoiled my breathing. I grew more and more rest- 
less and irritable ; I could not help it. At length I 
began to snap and kick when any one came to har- 
ness me. For this the groom beat me, and one day, 
as they had just buckled us into the carriage, and 
were straining my head up with that rein, I began 
to plunge and kick with all my might. I soon 
broke the harness, and kicked myself clear ; so that 
was an end of that place. 

“ After this, I was sent to Tattersall’s to be sold. 
Of course, I could not be warranted free from vice, 
so nothing was said about that. My handsome 
appearance and good paces soon brought a gentle- 
man to bid for me, and I was bought by another 
dealer. He tried me in all kinds of ways and with 
different bits, and he soon found out what I could 
not bear. At last he drove me without a check- 
rein, and then sold me as a perfectly quiet horse to 
a gentleman in the country. He was a good master, 
and I was getting on very well, but his old groom 
left him and a new one came. 

“ This man was as hard-tempered and hard-handed 
as Samson. He always spoke in a rough, impatient 
voice, and if I did not move in the stall the moment 
he wished, he would hit me above the hocks with his 
stable broom or the fork, whichever he might have in 


42 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


liis hand. Everything he did was rough, and I began 
to hate him. He wanted to make me afraid of him, 
but I was too high-mettled for that, and one day 
when he had aggravated me more than usual, I bit 
him. This, of course, put him in a great rage, and he 
began to hit me about the head with a riding whip. 
After that, he never dared to come into my stall 
again. Either my heels or my teeth were ready for 
him, and he knew it. I was always quiet with my 
master, but, of course, he listened to what the man 
said, and so I was sold again. 

“ The same dealer heard of me, and said he thought 
he knew one place where I should do well. 1 ’Twas 
a pity,’ he said, ‘ that such a line horse should go to 
the bad, for want of a real good chance.’ The end 
of it was that I came here not long before you did. 
But I had then made up my mind that men were 
my natural enemies, and that I must defend myself. 
Of course, it is very different here, but who knows 
how long it will last ? I wish I could think about 
things as you do ; but I can’t, after all I have gone 
through.” 

“ Well,” I said, “ I think it would be a real shame 
if you were to bite or kick John or James.” 

“ I don’t mean to,” she said, “ while they are good 
to me. I did bite James once pretty sharp, but 
John said, ‘ Try her with kindness,’ and instead of 


GINGER. 


43 


punishing me as I expected, James came to me with 
his arm bound up, and brought me a bran mash and 
stroked me. And I have never snapped at him 
since, and I won’t, either.” 

I was sorry for Ginger. But, of course, I knew 
very little then, and I thought most likely she made 
the worst of it. However, I found that as the weeks 
went on, she grew much more gentle and cheerful, 
and had lost the watchful, defiant look that she 
used to turn on any strange person who came near 
her. And one day James said, “ I do believe that 
mare is getting fond of me ; she quite whinnied after 
me this morning when I had been rubbing her fore- 
head.” 

“ Aye, aye, Jim, ’tis ‘ the Birtwick balls] ” said 
John. “ She’ll be as good as Black Beauty by and 
by. Kindness is all the physic she wants, poor 
thing ! ” Master noticed the change, too, and one 
day when he got out of the carriage and came to 
speak to us, as he often did, he stroked her beauti- 
ful neck. “Well, my pretty one, well, how do 
things go with you now ? You are a good bit hap- 
pier than when you came to us, I think.” 

She put her nose up to him in a friendly, trustful 
way, while he rubbed it gently. 

“ We shall make a cure of her, John,” he said. 

“Yes, sir, she’s wonderfully improved. She’s not 


44 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


the same creature that she was ; it’s ‘ the Birtwick 
balls ,’ sir,” said John, laughing. 

This was a little joke of John’s. He used to say 
that a regular course of “ the Birtwick horse-balls ” 
would cure almost any vicious horse. These balls, 
he said, were made up of patience and gentleness, 
firmness and petting, one pound of each to be mixed 
up with half a pint of common sense, and given to 
the horse every day. 


CHAPTER IX. 

MERRYLEGS. 

Mr. Blomefield, the Vicar, had a large family of 
boys and girls. Sometimes they used to come and 
play with Miss Jessie and Flora. One of the girls 
was as old as Miss Jessie. Two of the boys were 
older, and there were several little ones. When they 
came, there was plenty of work for Merrylegs, for 
nothing pleased them so much as getting on him by 
turns and riding him all about the orchard and the 
home paddock, and this they would do by the hour 
together. 

One afternoon he had been out with them a long 
time, and when James brought him in and put on 
his halter, he said : 


MERRYLEGS. 


45 


“There, you rogue, mind how you behave your- 
self, or we shall get into trouble.” 

“ What have you been doing, Merrylegs ? ” I 
asked. 

“ Oh ! ” said he, tossing his little head, “ I have 
only been giving those young people a lesson. They 
did not know when they had had enough, nor when 
I had had enough, so I just pitched them off back- 
wards. That was the only thing they could under- 
stand.” 

“ What ? ” said I, “ you threw the children off ? I 
thought you knew better than that ! Did you throw 
Miss Jessie or Miss Flora?” 

He looked very much offended, and said : 

“ Of course not ; I would not do such a thing for 
the best oats that ever came into the stable. Why, 
I am as careful of our young ladies as the master 
could be, and as for the little ones, it is I who teach 
them to ride. When they seem frightened or a little 
unsteady on my back, I go as smooth and as quiet 
as old pussy when she is after a bird. And when 
they are all right I go on again faster, you see, just 
to use them to it. So don’t you trouble yourself 
preaching to me. I am the best friend and the best 
riding master those children have. It is not they, 
it is the boys. Boys,” said he, shaking his mane, 
“ are quite different. They must be broken in, as 


46 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


we were broken in when we were colts, and just 
be taught what’s what. 

“The other children had ridden me about for 
nearly two hours, and then the boys thought it was 
their turn, and so it was, and I was quite willing. 
They rode me by turns, and I galloped them about, 
up and down the fields and all about the orchard, 
for a good hour. They had each cut a great hazel 
stick for a riding whip, and laid it on a little too 
hard. But I took it in good part, till at last I 
thought we had had enough, so I stopped two or 
three times by way of a hint. 

“ Boys, you see, think a horse or pony is like a 
steam engine or a thrashing machine, and can go on 
as long and as fast as they please. They never 
think that a pony can get tired, or have any feel- 
ings. So as the one who was whipping me could 
not understand, I just rose up on my hind legs and 
let him slip off behind, — that was all. He mounted 
me again, and I did the same. Then the other 
boy got up, and as soon as he began to use his stick 
I laid him on the grass, and so on, till they were 
able to understand. That was all. They are not 
bad boys. They don’t wish to be cruel. I like 
them very well, but you see I had to give them a 
lesson. When they brought me to James and told 
him, I think he was very angry to see such big 


MERRYLEGS. 


47 


sticks. He said they were only fit for drovers or 
gypsies, and not for young gentlemen.” 

“ If I had been yon,” said Ginger, “ I would have 
given those boys a good kick, and that would have 
given them a lesson.” 

“ No doubt you would,” said Merrylegs ; “but then 
I am not quite such a fool (begging your pardon) as 
to anger our master or make James ashamed of me. 
Besides, those children are under my charge when 
they are riding; they are entrusted to me. Why, 
only the other day I heard our master say to Mrs 0 
Blomefield, ‘ My dear madam, you need not be 
anxious about the children. My old Merrylegs will 
take as much care of them as you or I could. I 
assure you I would not sell that pony for any 
money, he is so perfectly good-tempered and trust- 
worthy.’ 

“ And do you think I am such an ungrateful brute 
as to forget all the kind treatment I have had here 
for five years, and all the trust they place in me, and 
turn vicious because a couple of ignorant boys used 
me badly? No, no! you never had a good place 
where they were kind to you, and so you don’t know, 
and I’m sorry for you. But I can tell you good 
places make good horses. I wouldn’t vex our peo- 
ple for anything. I love them, I do,” said Merry- 
legs, and he gave a low “ ho, ho, ho,” through his 


48 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


nose, as he used to do in the morning when he heard 
James’s footstep at the door. 

“ Besides,” he went on, “if I took to kicking, 
where should I be ? Why, sold off in a jiffy, and 
no character, and I might find myself slaved about 
under a butcher’s boy, or worked to death at some 
seaside place where no one cared for me, except to 
find out how fast I could go, or be flogged along 
dragging some cart with three or four great men in 
it going out for a Sunday spree, as I have often seen 
in the place where I lived before I came here. No,” 
said he, shaking his head, “ I hope I shall never 
come to that.” 


CHAPTER X. 

A TALK IN THE ORCHARD. 

Ginger and I were not of the regular tall carriage 
horse breed. We had more of the racing blood in 
us. We stood about fifteen and a half hands high. 
We were, therefore, just as good for riding as we 
were for driving, and our master used to say that he 
disliked either horse or man that could do but one 
thing ; and as he did not want to show off in Lon- 
don parks, he preferred a more active and useful 
kind of horse. As for us, our greatest pleasure was 
when we were saddled for a riding party ; the mas- 


A TALK IN THE ORCHARD. 


49 


ter on Ginger, tlie mistress on me, and tlie young 
ladies on Sir Oliver and Merry legs. It was so cheer- 
ful to be trotting and cantering all together, that it 
always put us in high spirits. I had the best of it, 
for I always carried the mistress. Her weight was 
little, her voice was sweet, and her hand was so 
light on the rein, that I was guided almost without 
feeling it. 

Oh ! if people knew what a comfort to horses a 
light hand is, and how it keeps a good mouth and 
a good temper, they surely would not jerk, and drag, 
and pull at the rein as they often do. Our mouths 
are so tender, that where they have not been spoiled 
or hardened with bad or ignorant treatment, they 
feel the slightest movement of the driver’s hand, 
and we know in an instant Avhat is required of us. 

My mouth had never been spoiled, and I believe 
that was why the mistress preferred me to Ginger, 
although her paces were certainly quite as good. 
She used often to envy me, and said it was all the 
fault of breaking in, and the gag bit in London, that 
her mouth was not so perfect as mine. And then 
old Sir Oliver would say, “ There, there ! don’t vex 
yourself. You have the greatest honor. A mare 
that can carry a tall man of our master’s weight, 
with all your spring and sprightly action, does not 
need to hold her head down because she does not 


4 


50 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


carry tlie lady. We horses must take things as they 
come, and always be contented and willing so long 
as we are kindly used.” 

I had often wondered how it was that Sir Oliver 
had such a very short tail. It really was only six or 
seven inches long, with a tassel of hair hanging from 
it. On one of our holidays in the orchard I ven- 
tured to ask him by what accident it was that he 
had lost his tail. “ Accident ! ” he snorted with a 
fierce look, “it was no accident! It was a cruel, 
shameful, cold-blooded act ! When 1 was young I 
was taken to a place where those cruel things were 
done. I was tied up, and made fast so that I could 
not stir, and then they came and cut off my long, 
beautiful tail, through the flesh and through the 
bone, and took it away.” 

“ How dreadful ! ” I exclaimed. 

“Dreadful, ah ! it was dreadful. But it was not 
only the pain, though that was terrible and lasted a 
long time ; it was not only the indignity of having 
my best ornament taken from me, though that was 
bad ; but it was this, how could I ever brush the flies 
off my sides and my hind legs any more ? You who 
have tails just whisk the flies off without thinking 
about it, and you can’t tell what a torment it is to 
have them settle upon you and sting and sting, and 
have nothing in the world to lash them off with. I 


A TALK IN THE ORCHARD. 


51 


tell you it is a life-long wrong, and a life-long loss ; 
but, tbank Heaven, tliey don’t do it now.” 

“ What did they do it for then ? ” said Ginger. 

“ For fashion ! ” said the old horse with a stamp 
of his foot; “for fashion ! if you know what that 
means. There was not a well-bred young horse in my 
time that had not his tail docked in that shameful 
way, just as if the good God that made us did not 
know what we wanted, and what looked best.” 

“ I suppose it is fashion that makes them strap 
our heads up with those horrid bits that I was tor- 
tured with in London,” said Ginger. 

“ Of course, it is,” said he. “To my mind, fashion 
is one of the wickedest things in the world. Now 
look, for instance, at the way they serve dogs, cut- 
ting off their tails to make them look plucky, and 
shearing up their pretty little ears to a point to 
make them look sharp, forsooth. I had a dear 
friend once, a brown terrier ; ‘ Skye ’ they called her. 
She was so fond of me that she never would sleep 
out of my stall. She made her bed under the manger, 
and there she had a litter of five as pretty little 
puppies as need be. None were drowned, for they 
were a valuable kind, and how pleased she was with 
them ! and when they got their eyes open and 
crawled about, it was a real pretty sight. 

“ But one day the man came and took them all 


52 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


away. I thought he might be afraid I should tread 
upon them. But it was not so ; in the evening poor 
Skye brought them back again, one by one in her 
mouth, not the happy little things that they had 
been, but bleeding and crying pitifully. They had 
all had a piece of their tails cut olf, and the soft flap 
of their pretty little ears was cut quite off. How 
their mother licked them, and how troubled she 
was, poor thing ! I never forgot it. 

“ They healed in time, and they forgot the pain, but 
the nice, soft flap that of course was intended to pro- 
tect the delicate part of their ears from dust and 
injury, was gone forever. Why don’t they cut their 
own children’s ears into points to make them look 
sharp ? Why don’t they cut the end off their noses 
to make them look plucky ? One would be just as 
sensible as the other. What right have they to tor- 
ment and disfigure God’s creatures ? ” 

Sir Oliver, though he was so gentle, was a fiery 
old fellow, and what he said was all so new to me, 
and so dreadful, that I found a bitter feeling I never 
had before towards men rise up in my mind. Of 
course, Ginger was very much excited. She flung up 
her head with flashing eyes and distended nostrils, 
declaring that men were both brutes and blockheads. 

“ Who talks about blockheads ? ” said Merrylegs, 
who had just come up from the old apple tree, where 


A TALK IN THE ORCHARD. 


53 


lie had been rubbing himself against a low branch. 
“ Who talks about blockheads ? I believe that is a 
bad word.” 

“ Bad words were made for bad things,” said Gin- 
ger, and she told him what Sir Oliver had said. 

“ It is all true,” said Merry legs sadly. “ I’ve 
seen dogs treated in that way over and over again 
where I lived first ; but we won’t talk about it here. 
You know that master, and John, and James are al- 
ways good to us. So talking against men in such a 
place as this doesn’t seem fair or grateful, and you 
know there are good masters and good grooms be- 
side ours, though, of course, ours are the best.” 

This wise speech of good little Merrylegs, which 
we knew was quite true, cooled us all down, espe- 
cially Sir Oliver, who was dearly fond of his master. 
To turn the subject I said, u Can any one tell me the 
use of blinders ? ” 

“ No ! ” said Sir Oliver shortly, “ because they are 
no use.” 

“ They are supposed,” said Justice, the roan cob, 
in his calm way, “ to prevent horses from shying and 
starting, and getting so frightened as to cause acci- 
dents.” 

“ Then what is the reason they do not put them 
on riding horses, especially on ladies’ horses ? ” 
said I. 


54 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


“ There is no reason at all,” said he quietly, “ ex- 
cept the fashion. They say that a horse would be so 
frightened to see the wheels of his own cart or car- 
riage coming behind him, that he would be sure to 
run away, although, of course, when he is ridden he 
sees them all about him if the streets are crowded. 
I admit they do sometimes come too close to be 
pleasant, but we don’t run away. We are used to 
it, and understand it, and if we never had blinders 
put on we should never want them. We should see 
what was there, and know what was what, and be 
much less frightened than by only seeing bits of 
things that we can’t understand. Of course, there 
may be some nervous horses who have been hurt or 
frightened when they were young, who may be the 
better for wearing blinders ; but as I never was 
nervous, I can’t judge.” 

“ I consider,” said Sir Oliver, “ that blinders are 
dangerous things in the night. We horses can see 
much better in the dark than men can. Many an 
accident would never have happened if horses might 
have had the full use of their eyes.” 

u I should say,” said Ginger, curling her nostril, 
“ that these men, who are so wise, had better give 
orders that in future all foals should be born with 
their eyes set just in the middle of their foreheads, 
instead of on the side. They always think they can 


A STORMY DAY. 


55 


improve upon nature and mend wliat God lias 
made.” 

Things were getting rather sore again, when Mer- 
rylegs held up his knowing little face and said, “ I’ll 
tell you a secret : I believe John does not approve 
of blinders. I heard him talking with master about 
it one day. The master said, that ‘ if horses had 
been used to them, it might be dangerous in some 
cases to leave them off ; ’ and John said he thought 
it would be a good thing if all colts were broken in 
without blinders, as was the case in some foreign 
countries.” 


CHAPTER XI. 

A STORMY DAY. 

One day late in the autumn my master had a long 
journey to go on business. I was put to the dog- 
cart, and John went with his master. There had 
been a great deal of rain, and now the wind was 
very high and blew the dry leaves across the road 
in a shower. We went along merrily till we came 
to the toll-bar and the low wooden bridge. The 
river banks were rather high, and the bridge, in- 
stead of rising, went across just level, so that in the 
middle, if the river was full, the water would be 
nearly up to the woodwork and planks. But as 


56 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


there were good, substantial rails on each side, people 
did not mind it. 

The man at the gate said the river was rising fast, 
and he feared it would be a bad night. Many of the 
meadows were under water, and in one low part of 
the road the water was halfway up to my knees. 
The bottom was good, however, and master drove 
gently, so it was no matter. 

When we got to the town I had, of course, a good 
feed, but as the master’s business engaged him a long 
time, we did not start for home till rather late in 
the afternoon. The wind was then much higher, 
and I heard the master say to John he had never 
been out in such a storm. And so I thought, as we 
went along the skirts of a wood, where the great 
branches were swaying about like twigs, and the 
rushing sound was terrible. 

“ I wish we were well out of this wood,” said my 
master. 

. “ Yes, sir,” said John, “ it would be rather awk- 
ward if one of these branches came down on us.” 

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when 
there was a groan, and a crack, and a splitting 
sound. And tearing, crashing down amongst the 
other trees came an oak, torn up by the roots. It 
fell right across the road just before us. I will 
never say I was not frightened, for I was. I stopped 


A STORMY DAY. 


57 


still, and I believe I trembled. Of course I did not 
turn round or run away ; I was not brought up to 
that. John jumped out and in a moment was at my 
head. 

“ That came very near,” said my master. “ What’s 
to be done now ? ” 

“Well, sir, we can’t drive over that tree, nor yet 
get round it. There’s nothing for us but to go 
back to the four cross-ways, and that will be a good 
six miles before we get round to the wooden bridge 
again. It will make us late, but the horse is fresh.” 

So back we went and round by the cross roads. 
By the time we got to the bridge it was very nearly 
dark. We could just see that the water was over 
the middle of it. As this sometimes happened 
when there were floods, master did not stop. We 
were going along at a good pace, but the moment 
my feet touched the first part of the bridge, I felt 
sure there was something wrong. I dare not go 
forward, and I made a dead stop. “ Go on, Beauty,” 
said my master, and he gave me a touch with the 
whip, but I dare not stir. He gave me a sharp cut. 
I jumped, but I dare not go forward. 

“There’s something wrong, sir,” said John, and 
he sprang out of the dog-cart and came to my head 
and looked all about. He tried to lead me forward. 
“ Come on, Beauty ; what’s the matter ? ” Of course, 


58 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


I could not tell him, but I knew very well that the 
bridge was not safe. 

Just then the man at the toll-gate on the other side 
ran out of the house, tossing a torch about violently. 

“ Hoy, hoy, hoy ! halloo ! stop ! ” he cried. 

“ What’s the matter ? ” shouted my master. 

“ The bridge is broken in the middle, and part of 
it is carried away ; if you come on you’ll be into the 
river.” 

“ Thank God ! ” said my master. “ You Beauty ! ” 
said John, and took the bridle and gently turned 
me round to the right-hand road by the river side. 
The sun had set some time. The wind seemed to 
have lulled off after that furious blast which tore up 
the tree. It grew darker and darker, stiller and 
stiller. I trotted quietly along, the wheels hardly 
making a sound on the soft road. For a good while 
neither master nor John spoke, and then master be- 
gan in a serious voice. I could not understand much 
of what they said, but I found they thought, that if 
I had gone on as the master wanted me, horse, chaise, 
master, and man would have fallen into the river. 
Master said, God had given men reason, by which they 
could find out things for themselves ; but he had given 
animals instinct, which did not depend on reason, and 
which was much more prompt and perfect in its Way, 
and by which they had often saved the lives of men. 


THE DEVIL’S TRADE MARK. 


59 


At last we came to the park gates, and found the 
gardener looking out for us. He said that mistress 
had been much alarmed ever since dark, fearing some 
accident had happened, and that she had sent James 
off on Justice, the roan cob, towards the wooden 
bridge to make inquiry after us. 

We saw a light at the hall door and at the upper 
windows, and as we came up, mistress ran out, say- 
ing, “ Are you really safe, my dear ? Oh ! I have 
been so anxious, fancying all sorts of things. Have 
you had no accident ? ” 

“ No, my dear ; but if your Black Beauty had not 
been wiser than we were, we should all have been 
carried down the river at the wooden bridge.” I 
heard no more, as they went into the house, and John 
took me to the stable. Oh, what a good supper he 
gave me that night, a good bran mash and some 
crushed beans with my oats, and such a thick bed of 
straw ! and I was glad of it, for I was tired. 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE DEVIL’S TRADE MARK. 

Oke day when John and I had been out on some 
business of our master’s, and were returning gently 
on a long straight road, at some distance we saw a 


60 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


boy trying to leap a pony over a gate. The pony 
would not take the leap, and the boy cut him with 
the whip, but he only turned off on one side. He 
whipped him again, but the pony turned off on the 
other side. Upon this the boy got off and gave him 
a hard thrashing, and knocked him about the head. 
Then he got on again and tried to make him leap 
the gate, kicking him all the time shamefully, but 
still the pony refused. When we were nearly at the 
spot, the pony put down his head and threw up his 
heels and sent the boy neatly over into a broad 
quickset hedge, and with the rein dangling from his 
head he set off home at a full gallop. John laughed 
out quite loud. “ Served him right,” he said. 

“ Oh, oh, oh ! ” cried the boy as he struggled 
about amongst the thorns. “ I say, come and help 
me out.” 

“Thank ye,” said John, “I think you are quite in 
the right place, and perhaps a little scratching will 
teach you not to leap a pony over a gate that is too 
high for him,” and so with that John rode off. “ It 
may be,” said he to himself, “ that young fellow is a 
liar as well as a cruel one. Beauty, we’ll just go 
home by farmer Bushby’s, and then if anybody wants 
to know, you and I can tell them exactly what hap- 
pened.” So we turned off to the right, and soon 
came up to the stack yard, and within sight of the 


THE DEVIL’S TRADE MARK. 


61 


house. The farmer was hurrying out into the road, 
and his wife was standing at the gate, looking very 
frightened. 

“ Have you seen my boy ? ” said Mr. Bushby, as 
we came up. “ He went out an hour ago on my 
black pony, and the creature is just come back 
without a rider.” 

“ I should think, sir,” said John, “ he had better 
be without a rider, unless he can be ridden prop- 
erly.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” said the farmer. 

“ W ell, sir, I saw your son whipping, and kicking, 
and knocking that good little pony about shame- 
fully, because he would not leap a gate that was too 
high for him. The pony behaved well, sir, and 
showed no vice. At last, however, he just threw up 
his heels, and tipped the young gentleman into the 
thorn hedge. He wanted me to help him out, but 
I hope you will excuse me, sir, I did not feel in- 
clined to do so.” 

During this time the mother began to cry, “ Oh, 
my poor Bill, I must go and meet him ; he must be 
hurt.” 

“ You had better go into the house, wife,” said 
the farmer. “ Bill needs a lesson about this, and I 
must see that he gets it. This is not the first time, 
nor the second, that he has ill used that pony, and I 


62 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


shall stop it. I am much obliged to you, Manly. 
Good-evening.” 

So we went on, John chuckling all the way home. 
Then he told James about it, who laughed and said, 
“ Served him right. I knew that boy at school. He 
took great airs on himself because he was a farmer’s 
son. He used to swagger about and bully the little 
boys. Of course, we elder ones would not have any 
of that nonsense, and let him know that in the 
school and the playground, farmers’ sons and labor- 
ers’ sons were all alike. I well remember one day, 
just before afternoon school, I found him at the 
large window catching flies and pulling off their 
wings. He did not see me, and I gave him a box 
on the ears that laid him sprawling on the floor. 
Well, angry as I was, I was almost frightened, he 
roared and bellowed in such a style. 

“ The boys rushed in from the playground, and 
the master ran in from the road to see who was be- 
ing murdered. Of course, I said fairly and squarely 
at once what I had done, and why. Then I showed 
the master the flies, some crushed and some crawling 
about helpless, and I showed him the wings on the 
window sill. I never saw him so angry before. As 
Bill was still howling and whining, like the coward 
that he was, he did not give him any more punish- 
ment of that kind, but set him up on a stool for the 


JAMES HOWARD. 


63 


rest of the afternoon, and said that he should not go 
out to play for that week. 

“Then he talked to all the boys very seriously 
about cruelty, and said how hard-hearted and 
cowardly it was to hurt the weak and the helpless. 
What, however, stuck in my mind was this : he said 
that cruelty was the Devil’s own trade mark, and if we 
saw any one who took pleasure in cruelty, we might 
know to whom he belonged, for the Devil was a mur- 
derer from the beginning, and a tormentor to the end. 
On the other hand, where we saw people who loved 
their neighbors, and were kind to man and beast, we 
might know that was God’s mark, for ‘ God is Love.’ ” 

“ Your master never taught you a truer thing,” 
said John. “There is no religion without love. 
People may talk as much as they like about their 
religion, but if it does not teach them to be good 
and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham, — all a 
sham, James, and it won’t stand when things come 
to be turned inside out, and put down for what they 
are.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 

JAMES HOWARD. 


Ohe morning early in December, John had just 
led me into my box after my daily exercise, and 


64 : 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


was strapping my blanket on, and J ames was coming 
in witli some oats, when the master came into the 
stable. He looked rather serious, and held an open 
letter in his hand. John fastened the door of my 
box, touched his cap, and waited for orders. 

“Good-morning, John,” said the master; “I want 
to know if you have any complaint to make of 
James.” 

“ Complaint, sir ? No, sir.” 

“ Is he industrious at his work and respectful to 
you ? ” 

“Yes, sir, always.” 

“You never find he slights his work when your 
back is turned ? ” 

“Never, sir.” 

“That’s well. But I must put another question. 
Have you no reason to suspect when he goes out with 
the horses to exercise them, or to take a message, 
that he stops about talking to his acquaintances, or 
goes into houses where he has no business, leaving 
the horses outside ? ” 

“ No, sir, certainly not. If anybody has been say- 
ing that about James, I don’t believe it, and I don’t 
mean to believe it unless I have it fairly proved be- 
fore witnesses. It’s not for me to say who has been 
trying to take away James’s character, but I will 
say this, sir, that a steadier, pleasanter, honester, 


JAMES HOWARD. 


65 


smarter young fellow I never had in this stable. I 
can trust his word and I can trust his work. He is 
gentle with the horses, and I would rather have 
them in charge of him than of half the young fellows 
I know of in laced hats and liveries. Whoever 
wants a character of James Howard,” said John, 
with a decided jerk of his head, “ let him come to 
John Manly.” 

The master stood all this time grave and atten- 
tive. As John finished his speech, a broad smile 
spread over his face, and looking kindly across at 
James, who all this time had stood still at the door, 
he said, “ James, my lad, set down the oats and come 
here. I am very glad to find that John’s opinion of 
your character agrees so exactly with my own. John 
is a cautious man,” he said, with a droll smile, “ and 
it is not always easy to get his opinion about people. 
So I thought if I beat the bush on this side, the 
birds would fly out, and I should learn what I 
wanted to know quickly. Now we will come to 
business. 

“ I have a letter from my brother-in-law, Sir Clif- 
ford Williams, of Clifford Hall. He wants me to 
find him a trustworthy young groom, about twenty 
or twenty-one, who knows his business. His old 
coachman, who has lived with him thirty years, is 
getting feeble, and he wants a man to work with 
5 


66 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


him and get into his ways, who would be able, when 
the old man was pensioned off, to step into his place. 
He would have eighteen shillings a week at first, a 
stable suit, a driving suit, a bedroom over the coach- 
house, and a boy under him. Sir Clifford is a good 
master, and if you could get the place it would be a 
good start for you. I don’t want to part with you, 
and if you should leave us I know John would lose 
his right hand.” 

“That I should, sir,” said John, “ but I would not 
stand in his way for the world.” 

“ How old are you, James ? ” said master. 

“ Nineteen next May, sir.” 

“ That’s young ; what do you think, John ? ” 

“Well, sir, it is young. But he is as steady as a 
man, and is strong, and well grown, and though he 
has not had much experience in driving, he has a 
light, firm hand and a quick eye. He is very care- 
ful, and I am quite sure no horse of his will be 
ruined for want of having his feet and shoes looked 
after.” 

“Your word will go the furthest, John,” said the 
master, “for Sir Clifford adds in a postscript, 4 If I 
could find a man trained by your John, I should like 
him better than any other.’ So James, lad, think it 
over ; talk to your mother at dinner time, and then 
let me know what you decide upon.” 


JAMES HOWARD. 


67 


In a few days after this conversation, it was fully 
settled that James should go to Clifford Hall, in a 
month or six weeks, as it suited his master, and in 
the meantime he was to get all the practice in driv- 
ing that could be given to him. I never knew the 
carriage to go out so often before. When the mis- 
tress did not go out, the master drove himself in 
the two-wheeled chaise ; but now, whether it was 
master or the young ladies, or only an errand, Gin- 
ger and I were put to the carriage and James drove 
us. At the first, John rode with him on the box, tell- 
ing him this and that, and after that James drove 
alone. 

Then it was wonderful what a number of places 
the master would go to in the city on Saturday, 
and what queer streets we were driven through. 
He was sure to go to the railway station just as the 
train was coming in, and cabs and carriages, carts 
and omnibuses were all trying to get over the bridge 
together. That bridge required good horses and 
good drivers when the railway bell was ringing. 
The bridge was narrow, and there was a very sharp 
turn up to the station, where it would not have been 
at all difficult for people to run into each other, if 
they did not look sharp and keep their wits about 
them. 


68 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE OLD OSTLER. 

After this, it was decided by my master and 
mistress to pay a visit to some friends who lived 
about forty-six miles from our home, and James was 
to drive them. The first day we traveled thirty-two 
miles. There were some long, heavy hills, but James 
drove so carefully and thoughtfully that we were 
not at all harassed. He never forgot to put on the 
brake as we went downhill, nor to take it off at the 
right place. He kept our feet on the smoothest part 
of the road. If the uphill was very long, he set the 
carriage wheels a little across the road, so as not to 
run back, and thus gave us a breathing. All these 
little things help a horse very much, particularly 
if he gets kind words in the bargain. 

We stopped once or twice on the road, and just as 
the sun was going down, we reached the town where 
we were to spend the night. We stopped at the 
principal hotel, which was in the Market Place. It 
was a very large one. We drove under an archway 
into a long yard, at the farther end of which were 
the stables and coach-houses. Two ostlers came to 
take us out. The head ostler was a pleasant, active 


THE OLD .OSTLER. 


69 


little man with a crooked leg and a yellow-striped 
waistcoat. I never saw a man unbuckle harness so 
quickly as he did. With a pat and a good word 
he led me to a long stable, with six or eight stalls 
in it, and two or three horses. The other man 
brought Ginger; James stood by whilst we were 
rubbed down and cleaned. 

I was never cleaned so lightly and quickly as by 
that little old man. When he had done, James 
stepped up and felt me over, as if he thought I 
could not be thoroughly done, but he found my coat 
as clean and smooth as silk. 

“Well,” he said, “I thought I was pretty quick, 
and our John quicker still ; but you beat all I 
ever saw for being quick and thorough at the same 
time.” 

“ Practice makes perfect,” said the crooked little 
ostler, “and ’t would be a pity if it didn’t. Forty 
years’ practice, and not perfect ! ha, ha ! that would 
be a pity. And as to being quick, why, bless you ! 
that is only a matter of habit. If you get into the 
habit of being quick, it is just as easy as being slow ; 
easier, I should say. In fact, it doesn’t agree with 
my health to be hulking about over a job twice as 
long as it need take. Bless you ! I couldn’t whistle 
if I crawled over my work as some folks do ! 

“ You see, I have been about horses ever since I 


70 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


was twelve years old, in limiting stables and racing 
stables. Being small, ye see, I was jockey for several 
years ; but at the Goodwood, ye see, the turf was 
very slippery and my poor Larkspur got a fall, and 
I broke my knee, and so, of course, I was of no 
more use there. But I could not live without horses, 
of course I couldn’t, so I took to the hotels. And I 
can tell ye it is a downright pleasure to handle an 
animal like this, well-bred, well-mannered, well-cared 
for ; bless ye ! I can tell how a horse is treated. 
Give me the handling of a horse for twenty minutes, 
and I’ll tell you what sort of a groom he has had. 

“Look at this one, pleasant, quiet, turns about 
just as you want him, holds up his feet to be 
cleaned out, or anything else you please to wish. 
Then you’ll find another fidgety, f re tty, won’t move 
the right way, or starts across the stall, tosses up his 
bead as soon as you come near him, lays his ears, 
and seems afraid of you ; or else squares about at 
you with his heels. Poor things ! I know what 
sort of treatment they have had. If they are timid, 
it makes them start or shy ; if they are high-mettled, 
it makes them vicious or dangerous ; their tempers 
are mostly made when they are young.” 

“ I like to hear you talk,” said James. “ That’s 
the way we lay it down at home, at our master’s.” 

“Who is your master, young man? if it be a 


THE OLD OSTLER. 


n 


proper question. I should judge lie is a good one, 
from what I see.” 

“ He is Squire Gordon, of Birtwick Park, the other 
side the Beacon Hills,” said James. 

“ Ah ! so, so, I have heard tell of him : fine judge 
of horses, isn’t he ? the best rider in the county ? ” 

“I believe he is,” said James, “but he rides 
very little now since the poor young master was 
killed.” 

“ Ah ! poor gentleman ; I read all about it in the 
paper at the time. A fine horse killed too, wasn’t 
there ? ” 

“Yes,” said James, “he was a splendid creature, 
brother to this one, and just like him.” 

“ Pity ! pity ! ” said the old man, “ ’twas a bad 
place to leap, if I remember ; a thin fence at top, a 
steep bank down to the stream, wasn’t it? No 
chance for the horse to see where he was going. 
Now, I am for bold riding as much as any man, but 
still there are some leaps that only a very knowing 
old huntsman has any right to take. A man’s life 
and a horse’s life are worth more than a fox’s tail.” 

During: this time the other man had finished Gin- 
ger, and had brought our corn, and James and the 
old man left the stable together. 


72 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE FIRE. 

Later on in the evening, a traveler’s horse was 
brought in by the second ostler, and whilst he was 
cleaning him, a young man with a pipe in his 
mouth lounged into the stable to gossip. 

“ I say, Towler,” said the ostler, “ just run up the 
ladder into the loft and put some hay down into 
this horse’s rack, will you ? only lay down your 
pipe.” 

“ All right,” said the other, and went up through 
the trap door. I heard him step across the floor 
overhead and put down the hay. James came in to> 
look at us the last thing, and then the door was. 
locked. 

I cannot say how long I had slept, nor what time 
in the night it was, but I woke up very uncomfort- 
able, though I hardly knew why. I got up. The 
air seemed all thick and choking. I heard Ginger 
coughing, and one of the other horses seemed very 
restless. It was quite dark, and I could see noth- 
ing, but the stable seemed full of smoke, and I 
could hardly breathe. 

The trap door had been left open, and I thought 


THE FIRE. 


73 

that was the place it came through. I listened, and 
heard a soft, rushing sort of noise, and a low crack- 
ling and snapping. I did not know what it was, but 
there was something in the sound so strange that it 
made me tremble all over. The other horses were 
now all awake. Some were pulling at their halters, 
others were stamping. 

At last I heard steps outside, and the ostler who 
had put up the traveler’s horse burst into the stable 
with a lantern, and began to untie the horses, and 
tried to lead them out. He seemed in such a hurry 
and was so frightened himself that he frightened 
me still more. The first horse would not go with 
him. He tried the second and the third, and they 
too would not stir. He came to me next and tried 
to drag me out of the stall by force. Of course, 
that was no use. He tried us all by turns, and then 
left the stable. 

No doubt we were very foolish, but danger 
seemed to be all around, and there was nobody we 
knew to trust in, and all was strange and uncertain. 
The fresh air that had come in through the open 
door made it easier to breathe, but the rushing 
sound overhead grew louder, and as I looked up- 
ward, through the bars of my empty rack, I saw a 
red light flickering on the wall. Then I heard a 
cry of. “ Fire ! ” outside, and the old ostler quietly 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


U 

and quickly came in. He got one liorse out, and 
went to another, but the flames were playing round 
the trap door, and the roaring overhead was dreadful. 

The next thing I heard was James’s voice, quiet 
and cheery, as it always was. 

“ Come, my beauties, it is time for us to be off, so 
wake up and come along.” I stood nearest the 
door, so he came to me first, patting me as he came 
in. 

“Come, Beauty, on with your bridle, my boy; 
we’ll soon be out of this smother.” It was on in no 
time. Then he took the scarf off his neck, and tied 
it lightly over my eyes, and patting and coaxing, he 
led me out of the stable. Safe in the yard, he 
slipped the scarf off my eyes, and shouted, “ Here, 
somebody ! take this horse while I go back for the 
other.” 

A tall, broad man stepped forward and took me, 
and James darted back into the stable. I set up a 
shrill whinny as I saw him go. Ginger told me 
afterwards that whinny was the best thing I could 
have done for her, for had she not heard me out- 
side, she would never have had courage to come out. 

There was much confusion in the yard ; the horses 
being got out of other stables, and the carriages and 
gigs being pulled out of houses and sheds, lest tbe 
flames should spread farther. On the other side of 


THE FIRE. 


76 


the yard, windows were thrown up, and people 
were shouting all sorts of things. But I kept my 
eye fixed on the stable door, where the smoke 
poured out thicker than ever, and I could see flashes 
of red light. Presently I heard above all the stir 
and din a loud, clear voice, which I knew was 
master’s : 

“ James Howard ! James Howard ! Are you 
there ? ” There was no answer, but I heard a crash 
of something falling in the stable, and the next 
moment I gave a loud, joyful neigh, for I saw James 
coming through the smoke leading Ginger with him. 
She was coughing violently, and he was not able to 
speak. 

“ My brave lad ! ” said master, laying his hand on 
his shoulder, u are you hurt ? ” 

James shook his head, for he could not yet speak. 

“ Aye,” said the big man who held me ; “ he is a 
brave lad, and no mistake.” 

“ And now,” said master, “ when you have got 
your breath, James, we’ll get out of this place as 
quickly as we can.” We were moving towards the 
entry, when from the Market Place there came a 
sound of galloping feet and loud, rumbling wheels. 

“ ’Tis the fire engine ! the fire engine ! ” shouted 
two or three voices ; “ stand back, make way ! ” 
And clattering and thundering over the stones, two 


76 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


horses dashed into the yard with the heavy engine 
behind them. 

We got out as fast as we could into the broad, 
quiet Market Place. The stars were shining, and 
except the noise behind us, all was still. Master 
led the way to a large hotel on the other side, and 
as soon as the ostler came, he said, “ James, I must 
now hasten to your mistress. I trust the horses 
entirely to you ; order whatever you think is 
needed,” and with that he was gone. 

There was a dreadful sound before we got into 
our stalls; the shrieks of those poor horses that 
were left burning to death in the stable — it was 
very terrible ! and made both Ginger and me feel 
very bad. We, however, were taken in and well 
cared for. 

The next morning the master came to see how we 
were and to speak to James. I did not hear much, 
for the ostler was rubbing me down, but I could 
see that James looked very happy, and I thought 
the master was proud of him. 

Our mistress had been so much alarmed in the 
night, that the journey was put off till the after- 
noon, so James had the morning on hand, and went 
first to the inn to see about our harness and the 
carriage, and then to hear more about the fire. 
When he came back, we heard him tell the ostler 


JOHN MANLY’S TALK. 


77 

about it. At first no one could guess bow tlie fire 
bad been caused, but at last a man said be saw Dick 
Towler go into tbe stable with a pipe in bis moutli, 
and wben be came out be bad not one, and went to 
the tap-room for another. Then tbe under ostler 
said be had asked Dick to go up the ladder to put 
down some bay, but told him to lay down his 
pipe first. Dick denied taking tbe pipe with him, 
but no one believed him. I remember our John 
Manly’s rule, never to allow a pipe in the stable. 
I thought it ought to be tbe rule everywhere. 

James said the roof and floor bad all fallen in, 
and that only tbe black walls were standing. Tbe 
two poor horses that could not be got out were 
buried under tbe burnt rafters and tiles. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

JOHN MANLY’S TALK. 

The rest of our journey was very easy, and a 
little after sunset we reached tbe bouse of my mas- 
ter’s friend. We were taken into a clean, snug 
stable. There was a kind coachman, who made us 
very comfortable, and who seemed to think a good 
deal of James wben be heard about tbe fire. 

u There is one thing quite clear, young man,” be 


78 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


said. “ Your horses know who they can trust. It 
is one of the hardest things in the world to get 
horses out of a stable when there is either lire or 
flood. I don’t know why they won’t come out, but 
they won’t — not one in twenty.” 

We stopped two or three days at this place and 
then returned home. All went well on the journey. 
We were glad to be in our own stable again, and 
John was equally glad to see us. 

Before he and James left us for the night, James 
said, “I wonder who is coming in my place.” 

“ Little Joe Green at the Lodge,” said John. 

“ Little Joe Green ! why, he’s a child ! ” 

“ He is fourteen and a half,” said John. 

“ But he is such a little chap ! ” 

“ Yes, he is small, but he is quick, and willing, 
and kind-hearted too. Besides he wishes very muck 
to come, and his father would like it ; and I know 
the master would like to give him the chance. He 
said if I thought he would not do, he would look 
out for a bigger boy. But I said I was quite will- 
ing to try him for six weeks.” 

“ Six weeks !” said James. “ Why, it will be six 
months before he can be of much use ! It will make 
you a deal of work, John.” 

“ Well,” said John with a laugh, “ work and I are 
very good friends ; I never was afraid of work yet.” 


JOHN MANLY’S TALK. 


79 


“ You are a very good man,” said James. “ I wish 
I may ever be like you.” 

“I don’t often speak of myself,” said John, “but 
as you are going away from us out into the world, 
to shift for yourself, I’ll just tell you how I look on 
these things. I was just as old as Joseph when my 
father and mother died of the fever, within ten days 
of each other, and left me and my crippled sister 
Nelly alone in the world, without a relation that 
we could look to for help. 

“ I was* a farmer’s boy, not earning enough to keep 
myself, much less both of us, and she must have 
gone to the workhouse but for our mistress. She 
went and hired a room for her with old widow 
Mallet, and she gave her knitting and needlework 
whenever Nelly was able to do it. When Nelly 
was ill she sent her dinners and many nice, com- 
fortable things, and was like a mother to her. 
Then the master took me into the stable under 
old Norman, the coachman at that time. I had 
my food at the house and my bed in the loft, and 
a suit of clothes, and three shillings a week, so 
that I could help Nelly. 

“ Now, Norman might have turned round and said 
that at his age he could not be troubled with a raw 
boy from the ploughtail, but he was like a father to 
me, and took no end of pains with me. When the 


80 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


old man died some years after, I stepped into his 
place, and now, of course, I have good wages, and 
can lay by for a rainy day or a sunny day, as it may 
happen, and Nelly is as happy as a bird. So you 
see, James, I am not a man that should turn up his 
nose at a little boy, and vex a good, kind master. 
No, no ! I shall miss you very much, James, but we 
shall pull through, and there’s nothing like doing a 
kindness when ’tis put in your way, and I am glad 
I can do it.” 

“Then,” said James, “you don’t believe in that 
saying, ‘ Everybody look after himself, and take care 
of number one.’ ” 

“No, indeed,” said John. “Where would I and 
Nelly have been if master and mistress and old Nor- 
man had only taken care of number one ? Why, 
she in the workhouse and I hoeing turnips ! Where 
would Black Beauty and Ginger have been if you 
had only thought of number one ? Why, roasted to 
death ! No, Jim, no ! that is a selfish, heathenish 
saying, whoever uses it.” 

James laughed at this. But there was a thickness 
in his voice when he said, “You have been my best 
friend except my mother. I hope you won’t forget 
me.” 

“ No, lad, no ! ” said John, “ and if ever I can do 
you a good turn, I hope you won’t forget me.” 


JOHN MANLY’S TALK. 


81 


Tlie next day J oe came to the stables to learn all 
he could before James left. He learned to sweep 
the stable, to bring in the straw and hay. He be- 
gan to clean the harness, and helped to wash the 
carriage. As he was quite too short to do anything 
in the way of grooming Ginger and me, James 
taught him upon Merrylegs, for he was to have full 
charge of him, under John. He was a nice, bright, 
little fellow, and always came whistling to his work. 

Merrylegs was a good deal put out at being 
“ mauled about,” as he said, “ by a boy who knew 
nothing.” But towards the end of the second week 
he told me confidentially that he thought the boy 
would turn out well. 

At last the day came when James had to leave 
us. Cheerful as he always was, he looked quite 
down-hearted that morning. 

“ You see,” he said to John, u I am leaving a great 
deal behind : my mother and Betsy, and you, and a 
good master and mistress, and then the horses, and 
my old Merrylegs. At the new place there will not 
be a soul that I shall know. If it were not that I 
shall get a higher place, and be able to help my 
mother better, I don’t think I should have made up 
my mind to it. It is very hard, John.” 

“ Ay, James, lad, so it is. But I should not think 
much of you, if you could leave your home for the 
6 


82 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


first time and not feel it. Cheer up; you’ll make 
friends there. And if you get on well, as I am sure 
you will, it will be a fine thing for your mother, and 
she will be proud enough that you have got into 
such a good place as that.” 

So John cheered him up, but every one was sorry 
to lose James. As for Merrylegs, he pined after 
him for several days, and quite lost his appetite. 
So John took him out several mornings with a 
leading rein, when he exercised me, and, trotting 
and galloping by my side, got up the little fellow’s 
spirits again, and he was soon all right. 

Joe’s father would often come in and give a little 
help, as he understood the work. And Joe took a 
great deal of pains to learn, and John was quite 
encouraged about him. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

GUIHG FOR THE DOCTOR. 

Oxe night, a few days after James had left, I had 
eaten my hay and was lying down in my straw fast 
asleep, when I was suddenly roused by the - stable 
bell ringing very loud. I heard the door of John’s 
house open, and his feet running up to the Hall. 
He was back again in no time. He unlocked the 


GOING FOR THE DOCTOR. 


83 


stable door, and came in, calling out, “Wake up, 
Beauty ! You must go well now, if ever you did.” 
And almost before I could think, he had got the 
saddle on my back and the bridle on my head. He 
just ran round for his coat, and then took me at a 
quick trot up to the Hall door. The Squire stood 
there, with a lamp in his hand. 

“Now, John,” he said, “ride for your life, — that 
is, for your mistress’ life. There is not a moment to 
lose. Give this note to Doctor White ; give your 
horse a rest at the inn, and be back as soon as you 
can.” 

John said, “ Yes, sir,” and was on my back in a 
minute. The gardener who lived at the lodge had 
heard the bell ring, and was ready with the gate 
open, and away we went through the park, and 
through the village, and down the hill till we came 
to the toll-gate. John called very loud and thumped 
upon the door. The man was soon out and flung 
open the gate. 

“ Now,” said John, “ do you keep the gate open 
for the Doctor. Here’s the money,” and off we went 
again. 

There was before us a long piece of level, road by 
the river side. John said to me, “ Now, Beauty, do 
your best,” and so I did. I wanted no whip nor 
spur, and for two miles I galloped as fast as 1 could 


84 : 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


lay my feet to the ground. I don’t believe that my 
old grandfather, who won the race at Newmarket, 
could have gone faster. When we came to the 
bridge, John pulled me up a little and patted my 
neck. “ Well done, Beauty ! good old fellow,” he 
said. He would have let me go slower, but my 
spirit was up, and I was off again as fast as 
before. 

The air was frosty, the moon was bright, and it 
was very pleasant. We came through a village, 
then through a dark wood, then uphill, then down- 
hill, till after an eight miles’ run we came to the 
town, through the streets and into the Market Place. 
It w T as all quite still except the clatter of my feet on 
the stones, — everybody was asleep. The church 
clock struck three as we drew up at Doctor White’s 
door. John rang the bell twice, and then knocked 
at the door like thunder. A window was thrown 
up, and Doctor White, in his nightcap, put his head 
out, and said, “ What do you want ? ” 

“ Mrs. Gordon is very ill, sir : master wants you 
to go at once. He thinks she will die if you cannot 
get there. Here is a note.” 

“ Wait,” he said, “ I will come.” 

He shut the window, and was soon at the door. 

“ The worst of it is,” he said, “ that my horse has 
been out all day and is quite done up. My son has 


GOING FOR THE DOCTOR. 


85 


just been sent for, and lie lias taken the other. What 
is to be done ? Can I have your horse ? ” 

“He has come at a gallop nearly all the way, 
sir, and I was to give him a rest here. But I think 
my master would not be against it, if you think fit, 
sir.” 

“ All right,” he said ; “ I will soon be ready.” 

John stood by me and stroked my neck. I was 
very hot. The Doctor came out with his riding 
whip. 

“ You need not take that, sir,” said John. “ Black 
Beauty will go till he drops. Take care of him, sir, 
if you can. I should not like any harm to come to 
him.” 

“ No, no, John,” said the Doctor, “ I hope not,” and 
in a minute we had left John far behind. 

I will not tell about our way back. The Doctor 
was a heavier man than John, and not so good a 
rider. However, I did my very best. The man at 
the toll-gate had it open. When we came to the 
hill, the Doctor drew me up. “Now, my good fel- 
low,” he said, “ take some breath.” I was glad he 
did, for I was nearly spent, but that breathing 
helped me on, and soon we were in the park. Joe 
was at the lodge gate. My master was at the Hall 
door, for he had heard us coming. He spoke not 
a word. The Doctor went into the house with him, 


86 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


and Joe led me to the stable. I was glad to get 
home, for my legs shook under me, and I could only 
stand and pant. I had not a dry hair on my body. 
The water ran down my legs, and I steamed all over, 
— Joe used to say, like a pot on the fire. 

Poor Joe ! he was young and small, and as yet he 
knew very little, and his father, who would have 
helped him, had been sent to the next village. I 
am sure, however, he did the very best he knew. 
He rubbed my legs and my chest, but he did not 
put' my warm blanket on me. He thought I was so 
hot I should not like it. Then he gave me a pailful 
of water to drink. It was cold and very good, and 
I drank it all. Then he gave me some hay and some 
corn, and, thinking he had done right, he went 
away. 

Soon I began to shake and tremble, and turned 
deadly cold. My legs ached, my loins ached, and 
my chest ached, and I felt sore all over. Oh ! how 
I wished for my warm, thick blanket as I stood and 
trembled ! I wished for John, but he had eight 
miles to walk, so I lay down in my straw and tried 
to go to sleep. After a long while I heard John at 
the door. I gave a low moan, for I was in great 
pain. He was at my side in a moment, stooping 
down by me. I could not tell him how I felt, but 
he seemed to know it all. He covered me up with 


GOING FOR THE DOCTOR. 


87 


two or three warm blankets, and then ran to the 
house for some hot water. He made me some warm 
gruel, which I drank, and then I think I went to 
sleep. 

John seemed to be very much put out. I heard 
him say to himself over and over again, “ Stupid 
boy ! stupid boy ! no blanket put on, and I dare say 
the water was cold, too. Boys are no good. But 
Joe was a good boy, after all.” 

I was now very ill. A strong inflammation had 
attacked my lungs, and I could not draw my breath 
without pain. John nursed me night and day. He 
would get up two or three times in the night to 
come to me. My master, too, often came to see me. 
“ My poor Beauty,” he said one day, “ my good 
horse, you saved your mistress’ life ; yes, Beauty, 
you saved her life.” I was very glad to hear that, 
for it seems the Doctor had said if we had been a 
little longer it would have been too late. John told 
my master he never saw a horse' go so fast in his 
life. It seemed as if the horse knew what was the 
matter. Of course I did, though John thought not. 
At least I knew as much as this, — that John and I 
must go at the top of our speed, and that it was for 
the sake of the mistress. 


88 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

ONLY IGNOKANCE. 

I do not know how long I was ill. Mr. Bond, 
the horse-doctor, came every day. One day he bled 
me. John held a pail for the blood. I felt very 
faint after it, and thought I should die, and I be- 
lieve they all thought so, too. 

Ginger and Merrylegs had been moved into the 
other stable, so that I might be quiet, for the fever 
made me very quick of hearing. Any little noise 
seemed quite loud, and I could tell every one’s foot- 
step going to and from the house. I knew all that 
was going on. One night John had to give me a 
draught. Thomas Green came in to help him. Af- 
ter I had taken it and John had made me as com- 
fortable as he could, he said he should stay half an 
hour to see how the medicine acted. Thomas said 
he would stay with him, so they went and sat down 
on a bench that had been brought into Merrylegs’ 
stall, and put down the lantern at their feet, that I 
might not be disturbed by the light. 

For a while both men sat silent, and then Tom 
Green said in a low voice : 

“ I wish, John, you’d say a bit of a kind word to 


ONLY IGNORANCE. 


89 


Joe. The boy is quite broken-hearted. He can’t 
eat his meals, and he can’t smile. He says he knows 
it was all his fault, though he is sure he did the 
best he knew. He says that if Beauty dies, no one 
will ever speak to him again. It goes to my heart 
to hear him. I think you might give him just a 
word. He is not a bad boy.” 

After a short pause, John said slowly, “ You must 
not be too hard upon me, Tom. I know he meant 
no harm ; I never said he did. I know he is not a 
bad boy. But you see I am sore myself. That 
horse is the pride of my heart, to say nothing of his 
being such a favorite with the master and mistress. 
And to think that his life may be flung away in this 
manner is more than I can bear. But if you think 
I am hard on the boy, I will try to give him a good 
word to-morrow, — that is, I mean if Beauty is 
better.” 

“ Well, John, thank you. I knew you did not 
wish to be too hard, and I am glad you see it was 
only ignorance.” 

John’s voice almost startled me as he answered, 
“ Only ignorance ! only ignorance ! how can you 
talk about only ignorance ? Don’t you know that it 
is the worst thing in the world, next to wickedness ? 
—and which does the most mischief Heaven only 
knows. If people can say, ‘ Oh ! I did not know, I 


90 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


did not mean any harm,’ they think it is all right. 
I suppose Martha Mulwash did not mean to kill 
that baby when she dosed it with soothing-syrups. 
But she did kill it, and was tried for manslaughter.” 

“ And served her right, too,” said Tom. “ A 
woman should not undertake to treat a tender little 
child without knowing what is good and what is 
bad for it.” 

“ Bill Starkey,” continued John, “ did not mean 
to frighten his brother into fits when he dressed up 
like a ghost, and ran after him in the moonlight ; 
but he did. And that bright, handsome little fel- 
low, that might have been the pride of any mother’s 
heart, is just no better than an idiot, and never will 
be, if he live to be eighty years old. You were a 
good deal cut up yourself, Tom, two weeks ago, 
when those young ladies left your hothouse door 
open, with a frosty east wind blowing right in. 
You said it killed a good many of your plants.” 

“A good many!” said Tom. “ There was not 
one of the tender cuttings that was not nipped off. 
I shall have to set out slips all over again, and the 
worst of it is that I don’t know where to go to get 
fresh ones. I was very angry when I came in and 
saw what was done.” 

“ And yet,” said John, “ I am sure the young 
ladies did not mean it; it was only ignorance.” 


JOE GREEN. 


91 


I heard no more of this conversation, for the 
medicine did well and sent me to sleep, and in the 
morning I felt much better. I often thought, how- 
ever, of John’s words when I came to know more of 
the world. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

JOE GREEN. 

Joe Green got on very well. He learned quickly, 
and was so attentive and careful that John begun 
to trust him in many ways. But, as I have said, he 
was small of his age, and it was seldom that he was 
allowed to exercise either Ginger or me. However, 
it so happened one morning that John was out with 
Justice in the luggage cart, and the master wanted a 
note to be taken immediately to a gentleman’s house, 
about three miles distant, and sent his orders for 
Joe to saddle me and take it, adding the caution 
that he was to ride steadily. 

The note was delivered, and we were quietly 
returning, when we came to the brickfield. Here we 
saw a cart heavily laden with bricks. The wheels 
had stuck fast in the stiff mud of some deep ruts, 
and the carter was shouting and flogging the two 
horses unmercifully. Joe pulled up. It was a sad 
sight. There were the two horses straining and 


92 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


struggling witli all their might to drag the cart out, 
but they could not move it. The sweat streamed 
from their legs and flanks, their sides heaved, and 
every muscle was strained, whilst the man, fiercely 
pulling at the head of the fore horse, swore and 
lashed most brutally. 

“ Hold hard,” said Joe. “ Don’t go on flogging the 
horses like that. The wheels are so stuck that they 
cannot move the cart.” 

The man took no heed, but went on lashing. 

“ Stop ! pray stop ! ” said Joe. “ I’ll help you to 
lighten the cart ; they can’t move it now.” 

“ Mind your own business, you impudent young 
rascal, and I’ll mind mine ! ” The man was in a 
towering passion and the worse for drink, and laid 
on the whip again. Joe turned my head, and the 
next moment we were going at a round gallop to- 
wards the house of the master brickmaker. I can- 
not say whether John would have approved of our 
pace, but Joe and I were both of one mind, and so 
angry that we could not have gone slower. 

The house stood close by the roadside. Joe 
knocked at the door, and shouted, “ Hallo ! Is Mr. 
Clay at home ? ” The door was opened, and Mr. 
Clay himself came out. 

“ Hallo, young man ! You seem in a hurry. Any 
orders from the Squire this morning ? ” 


JOE GREEN. 


93 


“ No, Mr. Clay, but there’s a fellow in your brick- 
yard flogging two horses to death. I told him to 
stop, and he wouldn’t. I said I’d help him to lighten 
the cart, and he wouldn’t. So I have come to 
tell you. Pray, sir, go.” Joe’s voice shook with 
excitement. 

“ Thank ye, my lad,” said the man, running in for 
his hat. Then pausing for a moment, “Will you 
give evidence of what you saw if I should bring the 
fellow up before a magistrate ? ” 

“ That I will,” said Joe, “ and gladly too.” The 
man was gone, and we were on our way home at a 
smart trot. 

“Why, what’s the matter with you, Joe? You 
look angry all over,” said John, as the boy flung 
himself from the saddle. 

“I am angry all over, I can tell you,” said the 
boy, and then in hurried, excited words he told all 
that had happened. Joe was usually such a quiet, 
gentle little fellow that it was remarkable to see 
him so roused. 

“ Right, Joe ! you did right, my boy, whether the 
fellow gets a summons or not. Many folks would 
have ridden by and said ’twas not their business to 
interfere. Now, I say that with cruelty and oppres- 
sion it is everybody’s business to interfere when they 
see it. You did right, my boy.” 


94 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


Joe was quite calm by this time, and proud that 
John approved of bim, and be cleaned out my feet, 
and rubbed me down witb a firmer band than 
usual. 

They were just going home to dinner when the 
footman came down to the stable to say that Joe 
was wanted directly in master’s private room. There 
was a man brought up for ill-using horses, and Joe’s 
evidence was wanted. The boy flushed up to his 
forehead, and his eyes sparkled. “ They shall have 
it,” said he. 

“Put yourself a bit straight,” said John. Joe 
gave a pull at his necktie and a twitch at his jacket, 
and was off in a moment. Our master being one of 
the county magistrates, cases were often brought to 
him to settle, or to say what should be done. In the 
stable we heard no more for some time, as it was the 
men’s dinner hour, but when Joe came next into the 
stable I saw he was in high spirits. He gave me a 
good-natured slap, and said, “ We won’t see such 
things done, will we, old fellow ? ” We heard after- 
wards that he had given his evidence so clearly, and 
the horses were in such an exhausted state, bearing 
marks of such brutal usage, that the carter was com- 
mitted to take his trial, and might possibly be sen- 
tenced to two or three months in prison. 

It was wonderful what a change had come over 


THE PARTING. 


95 


Joe. John laughed, and said he had grown an inch 
taller in that week, and I believe he had. He was 
just as kind and gentle as before, but there were 
more purpose and determination in all that he did, 
— as if he had jumped at once from a boy into a 
man. 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE PARTING. 

I had now lived in this happy place three years, 
but sad changes were about to come over us. We 
heard from time to time that our mistress was ill. 
The Doctor was often at the house, and the master 
looked grave and anxious. Then we heard that she 
must leave her home at once, and go to a warm 
country for two or three years. The news fell upon 
the household like the tolling of a death-bell. Every- 
body was sorry. The master at once began to make 
arrangements for breaking up his establishment and 
leaving England. We used to hear it talked about 
in our stable. Indeed, nothing else was talked 
about. 

John went about his work silent and sad, and Joe 
scarcely whistled. There was a great deal of coming 
and going. Ginger and I had full work. 

The first of the party who went were Miss Jessie 


96 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


and Miss Flora with their governess. They came to 
bid ns good-by. They hugged poor Merrylegs like an 
old friend, and so indeed he was. Then we heard 
what had been arranged for us. Master had sold 

Ginger and me to his old friend, the Earl of W , 

for he thought we should have a good place there. 
Merrylegs he had given to the Vicar, who was want- 
ing a pony for Mrs. Blomefield, but it was on the 
condition that he should never be sold, and that when 
he was past work he should be shot and buried. 

Joe was engaged to take care of him and to help 
in the house, so I thought that Merrylegs was well 
off. John had the offer of several good places, but 
he said he should wait a little and look about. 

The evening before they left, the master came 
into the stable to give some directions, and to give 
his horses the last pat. He seemed very low-spir- 
ited. I knew that by his voice. I believe we 
horses can tell more by the voice than many men 
can. 

“ Have you decided what to do, John ? ” he said. 
“ I find you have not accepted either of those offers.” 

“ No, sir ; I have made up my mind that if I could 
get a situation with some first-rate colt-breaker and 
horse-trainer, it would be the right thing for me. 
Many young animals are frightened and spoiled by 
wrong treatment, which need not be if the right 


THE PARTING. 


97 


man took them in hand. I always get on well with 
horses, and if I could help some of them to a fair 
start I should feel as if I was doing some good. 
What do you think of it, sir ? ” 

“I don’t know a man anywhere,” said master, 
“that I should think so suitable for it as yourself. 
You understand horses, and somehow they under- 
stand you, and in time you might set up for your- 
self. I think you could not do better. If in any 
way I can help you, write to me. I shall speak to 
my agent in London, and leave your character with 
him.” 

Master gave John the name and address, and then 
he thanked him for his long and faithful service ; 
but that was too much for John. “ Pray, don’t, sir, 
I can’t bear it. You and my dear mistress have 
done so much for me that I could never repay it. 
We shall never forget you, sir, and please God, 
we may some day see mistress back again like her- 
self. We must keep up hope, sir.” Master gave 
John his hand, but he did not speak, and they both 
left the stable. 

The last sad day had come. The footman and 
the heavy luggage had gone off the day before, and 
there were only master and mistress and her maid. 
Ginger and I brought the carriage up to the Hall 
door for the last time. The servants brought out 


7 


98 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


cushions and rugs and many other things. When 
all were arranged, master came down the steps 
carrying the mistress in his arms (I was on the 
side next the house, and could see all that went 
on). He placed her carefully in the carriage, while 
the house servants stood round crying. 

“ Good-by, again,” he said ; “ we shall not forget 
any of you,” and he got in. “ Drive on, John.” 

When we reached the railway station, I think 
mistress walked from the carriage to the waiting- 
room. I heard her say in her own sweet voice^ 
“ Good-by, John. God bless you.” I felt the rein 
twitch, but John made no answer. Perhaps he 
could not speak. As soon as Joe had taken the 
things out of the carriage, John called him to stand 
by the horses, * while he went on the platform. 
Poor Joe ! he stood close up to our heads to hide 
his tears. Very soon the train came puffing into 
the station. In two or three minutes the doors 
were slammed to, the guard whistled, and the train 
glided away, leaving behind it only clouds of white 
smoke and some very heavy hearts. 

When it was quite out of sight, John came back. 

“We shall never see her again,” he said, — 
“ never.” He took the reins, mounted the box, 
and with Joe drove slowly home; but it was not 
our home now. 


PART II. 


CHAPTER XXL 

EARLSHALL. 

The next morning after breakfast, Joe put Merry- 
legs to the mistress’ low chaise to take him to 
the vicarage. First he came and said good-by to 
us, and Merry legs neighed to us from the yard. 
Then John put the saddle on Ginger and the lead- 
ing rein on me, and rode us across the country 
about fifteen miles to Earlshall Park, where the 

Earl of W lived. We went into the yard 

through a stone gateway, and John asked for Mr. 
York. It was some time before he came. He 
was a fine-looking, middle-aged man, and his voice 
said at once that he expected to be obeyed. He 
was very friendly and polite to John, and after 
giving us a slight look he called a groom to take us 
to our boxes, and invited John to take some refresh- 
ment. 

We were taken to a light, airy stable, and placed 
in boxes adjoining each other, where we were 
99 


100 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


rubbed down and fed. In about half an hour John 
and Mr. York, who was to be our new coachman, 
came in to see us. 

“Now, Mr. Manly,” he said, after carefully look- 
ing at us both, “ I can see no fault in these horses. 
We all know, however, that horses have their pecu- 
liarities as well as men, and that sometimes they need 
different treatment. I should like to know if there 
is anything particular in either of these that you 
would like to mention.” 

“Well,” said John, “I don’t believe there is a 
better pair of horses in the country, and grieved I 
am to part with them, but they are not alike. The 
black one has the most perfect temper I ever knew. 
I suppose he has never known a hard word or a 
blow since he was foaled, and all his pleasure seems 
to be to do what you wish. But the chestnut, I 
fancy, must have had bad treatment ; we heard as 
much from the dealer. She came to us snappish 
and suspicious, but when she found what sort of 
place ours was, it all went off by degrees. For 
three years I have never seen the smallest sign of 
temper, and if she is well treated there is not a bet- 
ter, more willing animal than she is. But she is of 
a more irritable disposition than the black horse ; 
flies tease her more ; anything wrong in the har- 
ness frets her more ; and if she were ill-used or 


EARLSHALL. 


101 


unfairly treated she would not be unlikely to give 
tit for tat. You know that many high-mettled 
horses will do so.” 

“ Of course,” said York, “ I quite understand ; 
but you know it is not easy in stables like these to 
have all the grooms just what they should be. I 
do my best, and there I must leave it. I’ll remem- 
ber what you have said about the mare.” 

They were going out of the stable, when John 
stopped, and said, “ I had better mention that we 
have never used the check-rein with either of them. 
The black horse never had one on, and the dealer 
said it was the gag-bit that spoiled the other’s 
temper.” 

“ Well,” said York, “ if they come here, they must 
wear the check-rein. I prefer a loose rein myself, 
and his lordship is always very reasonable about 
horses; but my lady — that’s another thing. She 
will have style, and if her carriage horses are not 
reined up tight she wouldn’t look at them. I 
always stand out against the gag-bit, and shall do 
so, but it must be tight up when my lady rides ! ” 

“ I am sorry for it, very sorry,” said John ; “but 
I must go now, or I shall lose the train.” 

He came round to each of us to pat and speak to 
us for the last time ; his voice sounded very sad. 

I held my face close to him ; that was all I could 


102 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


do to say good-by ; and then he was gone, and I 
have never seen him since. 

The next day Lord W came to look at ns, 

and seemed pleased with our appearance. 

“ I have great confidence in these horses,” he said, 
“from the character my friend Mr. Gordon has 
given me of them. Of course, they are not a match 
in color, but my idea is that they will do very well 
for the carriage whilst we are in the country. Be- 
fore we go to London I must try to match Baron. 
The black horse, I believe, is perfect for riding.” 

York then told him what John had said about us. 

“Well,” said he, “you must keep an eye on the 
mare, and put the check-rein easy. I dare say they 
will do very well with a little humoring at first. I’ll 
mention it to your lady.” 

In the afternoon we were harnessed and put to 
the carriage, and as the stable clock struck three we 
were led round to the front of the house. It was all 
very grand, and three or four times as large as the 
old house at Birtwick, but not half so pleasant, if 
a horse may have an opinion. Two footmen were 
standing ready, dressed in drab livery, with scarlet 
breeches and white stockings. Presently we heard 
the rustling sound of silk as my lady came down the 
flight of stone steps. She stepped round to look at 
us. She was a tall, prouci-looking woman, and 


EARLSHALL. 


103 


seemed displeased about something, but she said 
nothing, and got into the carriage. 

This was the first time of wearing a check-rein, 
and I must say, though it certainly was a nuisance 
not to be able to get my head down now and then, 
it did not pull my head higher than I was accus- 
tomed to carry it. I felt anxious about Ginger, but 
she seemed to be quiet and content. 

The next day at three o’clock we were again at 
the door, and the footmen as before. We heard the 
silk dress rustle, and the lady came down the steps, 
and in an imperious voice she said, “ York, you must 
put those horses’ heads higher ; they are not fit to be 
seen.” 

York got down, and said very respectfully, “I 
beg your pardon, my lady, but these horses have not 
been reined up for three years, and my lord said it 
would be safer to bring them to it by degrees ; but 
if your ladyship pleases, I can take them up a little 
more.” 

“Do so,” she said. 

York came round to our heads and shortened the 
rein himself, one hole, I think. Every little makes 
a difference, be it for better or worse, and that day 
we had a steep hill to go up. Then 1 began to under- 
stand what I had heard of. Of course, I wanted to 
put my head forward and take the carriage up with 


104 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


a will, as we had been used to do. But no, I had 
to pull with my head up now, and that took all the 
spirit out of me, and the strain came on my back 
and legs. When we came in, Ginger said, "Now 
you see what it is like ; but this is not bad, and if 
it does not get much worse than this, I shall say 
nothing about it, for we are very well treated here. 
If, however, they strain me up tight, why, let ’em 
look out ! I can’t bear it, and I won’t.” 

Day by day, hole by hole our bearing reins were 
shortened, and instead of looking forward with 
pleasure to having my harness put on, as I used to 
do, I began to dread it. Ginger, too, seemed restless, 
though she said very little. At last I thought the 
worst was over; for several days there was no more 
shortening, and I determined to make the best of it 
and do my duty, though it was now a constant har- 
assment instead of a pleasure. The worst, however, 
was not come. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

A STRIKE FOR LIBERTY. 

One day my lady came down later than usual, 
and the silk rustled more than ever. 

“ Drive to the Duchess of B ’s,” she said, and 


A STRIKE FOR LIBERTY. 


105 


then, after a pause, “ Are you never going to get 
those horses’ heads up, York? Raise them at 
once, and let us have no more of this humoring and 
nonsense.” 

York came to me first, whilst the groom stood at 
Ginger’s head. He drew my head back and fixed 
the rein so tight that it was almost intolerable. 
Then he went to Ginger, who was impatiently jerk- 
ing her head up and down against the bit, as was 
her way now. She had a good idea of what was 
coming, and the moment York took the rein off the 
terret in order to shorten it, she took her opportu- 
nity, and reared up so suddenly that York had his 
nose roughly hit and his hat knocked off. The groom 
was nearly thrown off his legs. 

At once they both flew to her head, but she was a 
match for them, and went on plunging, rearing, and 
kicking in a most desperate manner. At last she 
kicked right over the carriage pole and fell down, 
after giving me a severe blow on my near quarter. 
There is no knowing what further mischief she might 
have done, had not York promptly set himself down 
flat on her head to prevent her struggling, at the same 
time calling out, “ Unbuckle the black horse ! Run 
for the wrench and unscrew the carriage pole ! Cut 
the trace here, somebody, if you can’t unhitch it ! ” 

One of the footmen ran for the wrench, and another 


106 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


brought a knife from the house. The groom soon 
set me free from Ginger and the carriage, and led 
me to my box. He turned me in just as I was, and 
ran back to York. I was much excited by what 
had happened, and if I had ever been used to kick 
or rear I am sure I should have done it then. But 
I never had, and there I stood, angry, sore in my 
leg, my head still strained up to the terret on the 
saddle, and no power to get it down. I was very 
miserable, and felt much inclined to kick the first 
person who came near me. 

Before long, however, Ginger was led in by two 
grooms, a good deal knocked about and bruised. 
York came with her and gave his orders, and then 
came to look at me. In a moment he let down my head. 

“ Confound these check-reins ! ” he said to him- 
self; “ I thought we should have some mischief 
soon. Master will be sorely vexed. But there, if a 
woman’s husband can’t rule her, of course a servant 
can’t ; so I wash my hands of it, and if she can’t get 
to the Duchess’ garden party I can’t help it.” 

York did not say this before the men. He always 
spoke respectfully when they were by. Now he felt 
me all over, and soon found the place above my hock 
where I had been kicked. It was swollen and pain- 
ful. He ordered it to be sponged with hot water, 
and then some lotion was put on. 


A STRIKE FOR LIBERTY. 


107 


Lord W was rnucli put out wlien lie learned 

wliat liad happened. He blamed York for giving 
^yay to his mistress, to which he replied that in 
future he would much prefer to receive his orders 
only from his lordship. Nothing, however, came of 
it, for things went on the same as before. I thought 
York might have stood up better for his horses, but 
perhaps I am no judge. 

Ginger was never put to the carriage again, but 
when she was well of her bruises one of Lord 

W ’s younger sons said he should like to have 

her; he was sure she would make a good hunter. 
As for me, I was still obliged to go with the car- 
riage, and had a fresh partner called Max ; he had 
always been used to the tight rein. I asked him 
how it was he bore it. 

“Well,” he said, “I bear it because I must; but 
it is shortening my life, and it will shorten yours, 
too, if you have to stick to it.” 

“Do you think,” I said, “ that our masters know 
how bad it is for us ? ” 

“ I can’t say,” he replied, “ but the dealers and the 
horse-doctors know it very well. I was at a dealer’s 
once, who was training me and another horse to go 
as a pair ; he was getting our heads up, as he said, 
a little higher and a little higher every day. A 
gentleman who was there asked him why he did so. 


108 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


‘ Because/’ said lie, £ people won’t buy tbem unless 
we do. The London people always want their 
horses to carry their heads high and to step high. 
Of course, it is very bad for the horses, but then it 
is good for trade. The horses soon wear out, or 
get diseased, and they come for another pair.’ That,” 
said Max, “ is what he said in my hearing, and you 
can judge for yourself.” 

What I suffered with that rein for four long 
months in my lady’s carriage it would be hard to 
describe. I am quite sure, however, that, had it 
lasted much longer, either my health or my temper 
would have given way. Before that, I never knew 
what it was to foam at the mouth, but now the 
action of the sharp bit on my tongue and jaw, and 
the constrained position of my head and throat, 
always caused me to froth at the mouth more or less. 

Some people think it very fine to see this, and 
say, “ What fine, spirited creatures ! ” But it is just 
as unnatural for horses to foam at the mouth as for 
men. It is a sure sign of some discomfort, and 
should be attended to. Besides this, there was a 
pressure on my windpipe which often made my 
breathing very uncomfortable. When I returned 
from my work, my neck and chest were strained and 
painful, my mouth and tongue tender, and I felt 
worn and depressed. 


THE LADY ANNE, OR A RUNAWAY HORSE. 109 


In my old liome I always knew that Jolin and my 
master were my friends. Here, on the contrary, al- 
though in many ways I was well treated, I had no 
friend. York might have known, and very likely 
did know, how that rein harassed me ; but I sup- 
pose he took it as a matter of course that could not 
be helped. At any rate, nothing was done to 
relieve me. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE LADY ANNE, OR A RUNAWAY HORSE. 

Early in the spring, Lord W and part of his 

family went up to London, and took York with 
them. Ginger and I and some other horses were 
left at home for use, and the head groom was left in 
charge. 

The Lady Harriet, who remained at the Hall, was 
a great invalid. She never went out in the carriage, 
and the Lady Anne preferred riding on horseback 
with her brother or cousins. She was a perfect 
horsewoman, and as gay and gentle as she was beau- 
tiful. She chose me for her horse, and named me 
“ Black Auster.” I enjoyed these rides very much 
in the clear cold air, sometimes with Ginger, some- 
times with Lizzie. This Lizzie was a bright bay 


110 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


mare, and a great favorite with the gentlemen on 
account of her fine action and lively spirit ; but 
Ginger, who knew more of her than I did, told me 
she was rather nervous. 

There was a gentleman of the name of Blantyre 
staying at the Hall. He always rode Lizzie, and he 
praised her so much that one day Lady Anne or- 
dered the side-saddle to be put on her, and the other 
saddle on me. When we came to the door, the gen- 
tleman seemed very uneasy. 

“ How is this ? ” he said. “ Are you tired of your 
good Black Auster ? ” 

“ Oh, no, not at all,” she replied, “ but I am ami- 
able enough to let you ride him for once, and I will 
try your charming Lizzie. You must confess that in 
size and appearance she is far more like a lady’s 
horse than my own favorite.” 

“ Do let me advise you not to mount her,” he said. 
“ She is a charming creature, but she is too nervous 
for a lady. I assure you, she is not perfectly safe. 
Let me beg you to have the saddles changed.” 

“My dear cousin,” said Lady Anne, laughing, 
“ pray do not trouble your good, careful head about 
me. I have been a horsewoman ever since I was a 
girl, and I have followed the hounds a great many 
times, though I know you do not approve of ladies 
hunting. Still that is the fact, and I intend to try 


THE LADY ANNE, OR A RUNAWAY HORSE. m 

this Lizzie that you gentlemen are all so fond of. 
So please help me to mount, like a good friend as 
you are.” 

There was no more to be said. He placed her 
carefully on the saddle, looked to the bit and curb, 
gave the reins gently into her hand, and then mounted 
me. Just as we were moving off, a footman came 
out with a slip of paper and message from the Lady 
Harriet. “ W ould they ask this question for her at 
Doctor Ashley’s, and bring the answer ? ” 

The village was about a mile off, and the Doctor’s 
house was the last in it. We went along gayly 
enough till we came to his gate. There was a short 
drive up to the house between tall evergreens. 
Blantyre alighted at the gate, and was going to open 
it for Lady Anne, but she said, “ I will wait for 
you here, and you can hang Auster’s rein on the 
gate.” 

He looked at her doubtfully. “ I will not be five 
minutes,” he said. 

“ Oh, do not hurry yourself. Lizzie and I will 
not run away from you.” 

He hung my rein on one of the iron spikes, and 
was soon hidden amongst the trees. Lizzie was 
standing quietly by the side of the road a few paces 
off, with her back to me. My young mistress was 
sitting easily with a loose rein, humming a little 


112 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


song. I listened to my rider’s footsteps until they 
reached the house, and heard him knock at the door. 
There was a meadow on the opposite side of the 
road, the gate of which stood open. Just then, some 
cart horses and several young colts came trotting 
out in a very disorderly manner, whilst a boy be- 
hind was cracking a great whip. 

The colts were wild and frolicsome, and one of 
them bolted across the road, and blundered up 
against Lizzie’s hind legs. Whether it was the 
stupid colt, or the loud cracking of the whip, or 
both together, I cannot say, but she gave a violent 
kick, and dashed off into a headlong gallop. It was 
so sudden that Lady Anne was nearly unseated, but 
she soon recovered herself. I gave a loud, shrill 
neigh for help. Again and again I neighed, pawing 
the ground impatiently, and tossing my head to get 
the rein loose. I had not long to wait. Blantyre 
came running to the gate. He looked anxiously 
about, and just caught sight of the flying figure, 
now far away on the road. In an instant he sprang 
to th,e saddle. I needed no whip, no spur, for I was 
as eager as my rider. He saw it, and giving me a 
free rein, and leaning a little forward, we dashed 
after them. 

For about a mile and a half the road ran straight, 
and then bent to the right, after which it divided 


THE LADY ANNE, OR A RUNAWAY HORSE. 113 


into two roads. Long before we came to the bend, 
she was out of sight. Which way had she turned ? 
A woman was standing at her garden gate, shading 
her eyes with her hand, and looking eagerly up the 
road. Scarcely drawing the rein, Blantyre shouted, 
“ Which way ? ” “ To the right ! ” cried the woman, 
pointing with her hand, and away we went up the 
right-hand road. Then for a moment we caught 
sight of her; another bend and she was hidden 
again. Several times we caught glimpses, and then 
lost them. We scarcely seemed to gain ground 
upon them at all. 

An old road-mender was standing near a heap of 
stones, his shovel dropped and his hands raised. 
As we came near he made a sign to speak. Blan- 
tyre drew the rein a little. “ To the common, to 
the common, sir ; she has turned off there.” I knew 
this common very well. It was for the most part 
very uneven ground, covered with heather and dark 
green furze bushes, with here and there a scrubby old 
thorn-tree. There were also open spaces of fine short 
grass, with ant-hills and mole-turns everywhere ; the 
worse place I ever knew for a headlong gallop. 

We had hardly turned on the common, when we 
caught sight again of the green habit flying on 
before us. My lady’s hat was gone, and her long 
brown hair was streaming behind her. Her head 


8 


114 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


and body were thrown back, as if she were pull- 
ing with all her remaining strength, and as if that 
strength were nearly exhausted. It was clear that 
the roughness of the ground had very much less- 
ened Lizzie’s speed, and there seemed a chance that 
we might overtake her. 

About half-way across the heath there had been 
a wide dike recently cut, and the earth from the cut- 
ting was cast up roughly on the other side. Surely 
this would stop them ! But no ; with scarcely a 
pause Lizzie took the leap, stumbled among the 
rough clods, and fell. Blantyre groaned, “ Now, 
Auster, do your best ! ” He gave me a steady rein. 
I gathered myself well together, and with one de- 
termined leap cleared both dike and bank. 

Motionless among the heather, with her face to 
the earth, lay my poor young mistress. Blantyre 
kneeled down and called her name. There was no 
sound. Gently he turned her face upward. It was 
ghastly white, and the eyes were closed. “ Annie, 
dear Annie, do speak ! ” But there was no answer. 
He unbuttoned her habit, loosened her collar, felt 
her hands and wrist, then started up and looked 
wildly around him for help. 

At no great distance there were two men cutting 
turf, who, seeing Lizzie running wild without a 
rider, had left their work to catch her. 


THE LADY ANNE, OR A RUNAWAY HORSE. 115 


Blantyre’s hallo soon brought them to the spot. 
The foremost man seemed much troubled at the 
sight, and asked what he could do. 

“ Can you ride ? ” 

“ Well, sir, I’m not much of a horseman, but I’d 
risk my neck for the Lady Anne ; she was uncom- 
monly good to my wife in the winter.” 

“ Then mount this horse, my friend, and ride to 
the Doctor’s and ask him to come instantly ; then 
on to the Hall. Tell them all that you know, and 
bid them send me the carriage with Lady Anne’s 
maid and help. I shall stay here.” 

“ All right, sir, I’ll do my best, and I pray God 
the dear young lady may open her eyes soon.” 
Then seeing the other man, he called out, u Here, 
Joe, run for some water, and tell my missis to come 
as quick as she can to the Lady Anne.” 

He then somehow scrambled into the saddle, and 
with a “ Gee up ” and a clap on my sides with both 
his legs, he started on his journey. He had no 
whip, which seemed to trouble him. My pace, how- 
ever, soon cured that difficulty, and he found the best 
thing he could do was to stick to the saddle, and 
hold me in, which he did manfully. I shook him as 
little as I could help, but once or twice on the rough 
ground he called out, “ Steady ! W oah ! Steady ! ” 
On the highroad we were all right. At the Doc- 


116 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


tor’s and the Hall lie did his errand like a good man 
and true. They asked him in to take a drop of 
something. “ No, no,” he said ; “ I’ll be back to ’em 
again by a short cut through the fields, and be there 
before the carriage.” 

There was a great deal of hurry and excitement 
after the news became known. I was just turned 
into my box; the saddle and bridle were taken off, 
and a blanket thrown over me. 

Ginger was saddled and sent off in great haste 
for Lord George, and I soon heard the carriage roll 
out of the yard. 

It seemed a long time before Ginger came back, 
and before we were left alone. Then she told me 
all that she had seen. 

“ I can’t tell much,” she said. “ We went at a gallop 
nearly all the way, and got there just as the Doctor 
rode up. There was a woman sitting on the ground 
with the lady’s head in her lap. The Doctor poured 
something into her mouth, but all that I heard was, 

‘ She is not dead.’ Then I was led off by a man to 
a little distance. After a while she was taken to the 
carriage, and we came home together. I heard my 
master say to a gentleman who stopped him to in- 
quire, that he hoped no bones were broken, but that 
she had not spoken yet.” 

When Lord George took Ginger for hunting, York 


REUBEN SMITH. 


117 


shook his head. He said it ought to be a steady 
hand to train a horse for the first season, and not a 
random rider like Lord George. 

Ginger used to like it very much, but sometimes 
when she came back I could see that she had been 
very much strained, and now and then she gave a 
short cough. She had too much spirit to complain, 
but I could not help feeling anxious about her. 

Two days after the accident, Blantyre paid me a 
visit. He patted me and praised me very much. 
He told Lord George that he was sure the horse 
knew of Annie’s danger as well as he did. “ I could 
not have held him in if I would,” said he ; “ she ought 
never to ride any other horse.” 1 foundry their 
conversation that my young mistress was now out 
of danger, and would soon be able to ride again. 
This was good news to me, and I looked forward to 
a happy life. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

REUBEN SMITH. 

I must now say a little about Reuben Smith, 
who was left in charge of the stables when York 
went to London. No one more thoroughly under- 
stood his business than he did, and when he was all 


118 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


right there could not be a more faithful or valuable 
man. He was gentle and very clever in his manage- 
ment of horses. 

He was a first-rate driver. He could take a four- 
in-hand or a tandem as easily as a pair. He was a 
handsome man, a good scholar, and had very pleas- 
ant manners. I believe everybody liked him ; cer- 
tainly the horses did. The only wonder was that 
he should be in an under situation, and not in the 
place of a head coachman like York; but he had 
one great fault, and that was the love of drink. 

He was not like some men, always at it. He used 
to keep ^teady for weeks or months together, and 
then he would break out and have a “ bout ” of it, 
as York called it, and be a disgrace to himself, a 
terror to his wife, and a nuisance to all that had to 
do with him. He was, however, so useful that two 
or three times York had hushed the matter up, and 
kept it from the Earl’s knowledge. However, one 
night, when Reuben had to drive a party home from 
a ball, he was so drunk that he could not hold the 
reins, and a gentleman of the party had to mount 
the box and drive the ladies home. 

Of course, this could not be hidden, and Reuben 
was at once dismissed. His poor wife and little 
children had to leave the pretty cottage by the park 
gate and go wherever they could. Old Max told me 


REUBEN SMITH. 


. 119 


all this, for it happened a good while ago. Shortly, 
however, before Ginger and I came, Smith had been 
taken back again. 

York had interceded for him with the Earl, who 
is very kind-hearted, and the man had promised 
faithfully that he would never taste another drop 
as long as he lived there. He had kept his promise 
so well that York thought he might be safely trusted 
to fill his place whilst he was away, and he was so 
clever and honest that no one else seemed so well 
fitted for it. 

It was now early in April, and the family was 
expected home some time in May. Colonel Blan- 
tyre was obliged to return to his regiment ; and 
as the light brougham was to be newly painted, it 
was arranged that Smith should drive him to the 
town in it, and ride back. For this purpose he took 
the saddle with him, and I was chosen for the jour- 
ney. At the station the Colonel put some money 
into Smith’s hand and bade him good-by, saying, 
“Take care of your young mistress, Reuben, and 
don’t let Black Auster be hacked about by any ran- 
dom young prig that wants to ride him, — keep him 
for the lady.” 

We left the carriage at the maker’s, and Smith 
rode me to the White Lion, and ordered the ostler 
to feed me well, and have me ready for him at four 


120 . 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


o’clock. A nail in one of my front shoes had started 
as I came along, but the ostler did not notice it till 
just about four o’clock. Smith did not come into 
the yard till five, and then he said he should not 
leave till six, as he had met with some old friends. 
The man then told him of the nail, and asked if he 
should have the shoe looked to. 

“ No,” said Smith, “that will be all right till we 
get home.” 

He spoke in a very loud, offhand way, and I 
thought it very unlike him not to see about the 
shoe, as he was generally very particular about loose 
nails in our shoes. He did not come at six, nor 
seven, nor eight, and it was nearly nine o’clock 
before he called for me, and then it was with a loud, 
rough voice. He seemed in a very bad temper, and 
abused the ostler, though I could not tell what for. 

The landlord stood at the door and said, “ Have a 
care, Mr. Smith ! ” but he answered angrily with an 
oath. And almost before he was out of the town 
he began to gallop, frequently giving me a sharp cut 
with his whip, though I was going at full speed. 
The moon had not yet risen, and it was very dark. 
The roads were stony, having been recently mended. 
Going over them at this pace, my shoe became 
looser, and when we were near the turnpike gate it 
came off. 


REUBEN SMITH. 


121 


If Smith had been in his right senses he would 
have been sensible of something wrong in my pace, 
but he was too madly drunk to notice anything. 

Beyond the turnpike was a long piece of road, 
upon which fresh stones had just been laid, — large, 
sharp stones, over which no horse could be driven 
quickly without risk of danger. Over this road, 
with one shoe gone, I was forced to gallop at my 
utmost speed, my rider meanwhile cutting into me 
with his whip, and with wild curses urging me to 
go still faster. Of course, my shoeless foot suffered 
greatly. The hoof was broken and split down to 
the very quick, and the inside was terribly cut by 
the sharpness of the stones. 

This could not go on; no horse could keep his 
footing under such circumstances ; the pain was too 
great. I stumbled, and fell with violence on both 
my knees. Smith was flung off by my fall, and, 
owing to the speed I was going at, he must have 
fallen with great . force. I soon recovered my feet 
and limped to the side of the road, where it was 
free from stones. 

The moon had just risen above the hedge, and by 
its light I could see Smith lying a few yards beyond 
me. He did not rise. He made one slight effort to 
do so, and then there was a heavy groan. I could 
have groaned, too, for I Avas suffering intense pain 


122 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


both from my foot and knees ; but horses are used 
to bear their pain in silence. I uttered no sound, 
but stood there and listened. One more heavy 
groan from Smith ; but though he now lay in the 
full moonlight, I could see no motion. I could do 
nothing for him nor myself ; but, oh ! how I listened 
for the sound of horse, or wheels, or footsteps ! 
The road was not much frequented, and at this time 
of the night we might stay for hours before help came 
to us. I stood watching and listening. 

It was a calm, sweet April night. There were no 
sounds but a few low notes of a nightingale, and 
nothing moved but the white clouds near the moon 
and a brown owl that flitted over .the hedge. It 
made me think of the summer nights long ago, when 
I used to lie beside my mother in the green, pleasant 
meadow at Farmer Grey’s. 


CHAPTER XXY. 

HOW IT ENDED. 

It must have been nearly midnight when I heard 
at a great distance the sound of a horse’s feet. 
Sometimes the sound died away, then it grew clearer 
again and nearer. The road to Earlshall led through 
woods that belonged to the Earl. The sound came 


HOW IT ENDED. 


123 


from tliat direction, and I hoped it might be some 
one coming in search of ns. As the sound came 
nearer and nearer, I was almost sure I could distin- 
guish Ginger’s step ; a little nearer still, and I could 
tell it was she was with the dog-cart. I neighed 
loudly, and was overjoyed to hear an answering neigh 
from Ginger, and men’s voices. They came slowly 
over the stones, and stopped at the dark figure that 
lay upon the ground. 

One of the men jumped out, and stooped down 
over it. “ It is Reuben,” he said, “ and he does not 
stir ! ” 

The other man followed, and bent over him. 
“ He’s dead,” he said ; “ feel how cold his hands 
are.” 

They raised him up, but there was no life, and 
his hair was soaked with blood. They laid him 
down again, and came and looked at me. They 
soon saw my cut knees. 

“ Why, the horse has been down and thrown him ! 
Who would have thought the black horse would 
have done that? Nobody thought he could fall. 
Reuben must have been lying here for hours ! Odd, 
too, that the horse has not moved from the place.” 

Robert then attempted to lead me forward. I 
made a step, but almost fell again. 

“ Hallo ! he’s bad in his foot as well as his knees. 


124 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


Look here, — his hoof is cut up very badly. He might 
well come down, poor fellow ! I tell you what, Ned, 
I’m afraid it hasn’t been all right with Reuben. 
Just think of his riding a horse over these stones 
without a shoe ! Why, if he had been in his right 
senses, he would just as soon have tried to ride him 
over the moon. I’m afraid it has been the old thing 
over again. Poor Susan ! she looked very pale 
when she came to my house to ask if he had not 
come home. She made believe she was not a bit 
anxious, and talked of several things that might 
have kept him. For all that, however, she begged 
me to go and meet him. But what must we do ? 
There’s the horse to get home as well as the body, 
and that will be no easy matter.” 

Then followed a conversation between them, till 
it was agreed that Robert, as the groom, should lead 
me, and that Ned must take the body. It was a 
hard job to get it into the dog-cart, for there was no 
one to hold Ginger. She knew, however, as well as 
I did what was going on, and stood as still as a 
stone. I noticed that, because, if she had a fault, it 
was that she was impatient in standing. 

Ned started off very slowly with his sad load, and 
Robert came and looked at my foot again. Then he 
took his handkerchief and bound it closely round, 
and so led me home. I shall never forget that 


HOW IT ENDED. 


125 


night’s walk. It was more than three miles. Robert 
led me on very slowly, and I limped and hobbled 
on as well as I could with great pain. I am sure he 
was sorry for me, for he often patted and encour- 
aged me, talking to me in a pleasant voice. 

At last I reached my own box, and had some 
corn. After Robert had wrapped up my knees in 
wet cloths, he tied up my foot in a bran poultice, 
to draw out the heat and cleanse it before the horse- 
doctor saw it in the morning, and I managed to get 
myself down on the straw, and slept in spite of the 
pain. 

The next day, after the farrier had examined my 
wounds, he said he hoped the joint was not injured; 
and if so, I should not be spoiled for work, but I 
should never lose the blemish. I believe they did 
the best to make a good cure, but it was a long and 
painful one. Proud flesh, as they call it, grew in the 
wound, and was burnt out with caustic ; and when 
at last it was healed, they put a blistering fluid over 
the front of both knees which took all the hair off. 
There was some reason for this, and I suppose it 
was all right. 

As Smith’s death had been so sudden, and no one 
was there to see it, an inquest was held. The 
landlord and ostler at the White Lion, with several 
other people, gave evidence that he was intoxicated 


126 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


when he started from the inn. The keeper of the 
toll-gate said he rode at a hard gallop through the 
gate. My shoe was picked up amongst the stones, 
so that the case was quite plain to them, and I was 
cleared of all blame. 

Everybody pitied Susan. She was nearly out of 
her mind. As she had no home or relations, she, 
with her six little children, was obliged once more 
to leave the pleasant home by the tall oak-trees, and 
go into that great gloomy Union House. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

RUINED, AND GOING DOWNHILL. 

As soon as my knees were sufficiently healed, I 
was turned into a small meadow for a month or 
two. No other creature was there, and though I 
enjoyed the liberty and the sweet grass, yet I had 
been so long used to society that I felt very lonely. 
Ginger and I had become fast friends, and now I 
missed her company extremely. I. often neighed 
when I heard horses’ feet passing in the road, but I 
seldom got an answer. 

One morning, however, the gate was opened, and 
who should come in but dear old Ginger. The man 
slipped off her halter and left her there. With a 


RUINED, AND GOING DOWNHILL. 


127 


joyful whinny I trotted up to her. We were both 
glad to meet, but I soon found that it was not for 
our pleasure that she was brought to be with me. 
Her story would be too long to tell, but the end of 
it was that she had been ruined by hard riding, and 
was now turned off to see what rest would do. 

Lord George was young and would take no warn- 
ing. He was a hard rider, and would hunt when- 
ever he could get the chance/ quite careless of his 
horse. Soon after I left the stable there was a 
steeplechase, and he determined to ride. Though 
the groom told him she was a little strained, and 
was not fit for the race, he did not believe it, and 
on the day of the race urged Ginger to keep up 
with the foremost riders. With her high spirit, 
she strained herself to the utmost. She came in 
with the first three horses, but her wind was touched, 
beside which he was too heavy for her, and her back 
was strained. “ And so,” she said, “ here we are, 
ruined in the prime of our youth and strength, you 
by a drunkard, and I by a fool ; it is very hard. ” 

One day we saw the Earl come into the meadow, 
and York was with him. Seeing who it was, we 
stood still under our lime-tree, and let them come 
up to us. They examined us carefully. The Earl 
seemed much annoyed. 

“ There is three hundred pounds flung away for 


128 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


no earthly use,” said he. “ But what I care most for 
is that these horses of my old friend, who thought 
they would find a good home with me, are ruined. 
The mare shall have a twelvemonth’s run, and we 
shall see what that will do for her. But the black 
one, he must be sold ; ’tis a great pit/, but I could 
not have knees like these in my stables.” 

“ No, my lord, of course not,” said York ; “ but he 
might get a place where appearance is not of much 
consequence, and still be well treated. I know a 
man in Bath, the master of some livery stables, who 
often wants a good horse at a low figure. I know 
he looks well after his horses. The inquest cleared 
the horse’s character, and your lordship’s recom- 
mendation, or mine, would be sufficient warrant for 
him.” 

“You had better write to him, York. I should 
be more particular about the place than the money 
he would fetch.” 

About a week after this, Kobert came into the 
field with a halter, which he slipped over my head, 
and led me away. There was no leave-taking of 
Ginger. We neighed to each other as I was led off, 
and she trotted anxiously along by the hedge, call- 
ing to me as long as she could hear the sound of my 
feet. 

Through the recommendation of York, I was 


A JOB HORSE AND HIS DRIVERS. 


129 


bought by the master of the livery stables. I had 
to go by train, which was new to me, and required 
a good deal of courage the first time. 

When I reached the end of my journey, I found 
myself in a tolerably comfortable stable, and well 
attended to. These stables were not so airy and 
pleasant as those I had been used to. The stalls 
were laid on a slope instead of being level, and as 
my head was kept tied to the manger, I was obliged 
always to stand on the slope, which was very fa- 
tiguing. Men do not seem to know yet that horses 
can do more work if they can stand comfortably and 
can turn about. However, I was well fed and well 
cleaned, and, on the whole, I think our master took 
as much care of us as he could. He kept a good 
many horses and carriages of different kinds for 
hire. Sometimes his own men drove them ; at 
others, the horse and chaise were let to gentlemen 
or ladies who drove themselves. 


CHAPTEE XXVII. 

A JOB HORSE AND HIS DRIVERS. 

Hitherto I had always been driven by people 
who at least knew how to drive. In this place I 
was to get my experience of all the different kinds 


130 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


of bad and ignorant driving to which we horses are 
subjected. 

First, there were the tight-rein drivers — men who 
seemed to think that all depended on holding the 
reins as hard as they could, never relaxing the pull 
on the horse’s mouth, or giving him the least liberty 
of movement. They are always talking about “ keep- 
ing the horse well in hand,” and “ holding a horse up,” 
just as if a horse was not made to hold himself up. 

Then there are the loose-rein drivers , who let the 
reins lie easily on our backs, and their own hands 
rest lazily on their knees. Of course, such gentle- 
men have no control over a horse, if anything hap- 
pens suddenly. If a horse shies, or starts, or stum- 
bles, they are nowhere, and cannot help the horse 
or themselves, till the mischief is done. 

Besides, a slovenly way of driving gets a horse 
into bad and often lazy habits ; and when he changes 
hands he has to be whipped out of them with more 
or less pain and trouble. Squire Gordon always 
kept us to our best paces and our best manners. 
He said that spoiling a horse, and letting him get 
into bad habits, was just as cruel as spoiling a child, 
and both had to suffer for it afterwards. 

Moreover, these drivers are often careless alto- 
gether, and will attend to anything else rather than 
their horses. I went out in the phaeton one day 


A JOB HORSE AND HIS DRIVERS. 


131 


with one of them. He had a lady and two children 
behind. He flopped the reins about as we started, 
and, of course, gave me several unmeaning cuts with 
the whip, though I was fairly off. There had been 
a good deal of road-mending going on, and even 
where the stones were not freshly laid down there 
were a great many loose ones about. My driver was 
laughing and joking with the lady and the children, 
and talking about the country to the right and the 
left. He never thought it worth while to keep an 
eye on his horse, or to drive on the smoothest parts 
of the road ; and so it easily happened that I got a 
stone in one of my fore feet. 

Now if Mr. Gordon or John, or in fact any good 
driver, had been there, he would have seen that 
something was wrong before I had gone three paces. 
Or even if it had been dark, a practiced hand would 
have felt by the rein that there was something 
wrong in the step, and would have got down and 
picked out the stone. But this man went on laugh- 
ing and talking, whilst at every step the stone be- 
came more firmly wedged between my shoe and the 
frog of my foot. The stone was sharp on the inside 
and round on the outside, which, as every one knows, 
is the most dangerous kind that a horse can pick up ; 
at the same time cutting his foot, and making him 
most liable to stumble and fall. 


132 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


Whether the man was partly blind, or only very 
careless, I can’t say. He drove me with that stone 
in my foot for a good half mile before he saw any- 
thing. By that time I was going so lame with the 
pain that at last he saw it, and called out, “ Well, 
here’s a go ! Why, they have sent us out with a lame 
horse ! What a shame \ ” 

He then jerked the reins and flipped about with 
the whip, saying, “ Now, then, it’s no use playing 
the old soldier with me. There’s the journey to go, 
and it’s no use turning lame and lazy.” 

Just at this time a farmer came riding up on a 
brown cob ; he lifted his hat and pulled up. 

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, “but I think 
there is something the matter with your horse ; he 
goes very much as if he had a stone in his shoe. If 
you will allow me, I will look at his feet. These 
loose scattered stones are very dangerous things for 
the horses.” 

The farmer dismounted, and, slipping his rein over 
his arm, at once took up my near foot. 

“ Bless me, there’s a stone ! Lame ! I should 
think so.” 

At first he tried to dislodge it with his hand, but 
as it was now very tightly wedged, he drew a stone- 
pick out of his pocket, and very carefully, and with 
some trouble, got the stone out. Then holding it 


A JOB HORSE AND HIS DRIVERS. 


133 


up, lie said, “ There, that’s the stone your horse had 
picked up. It is a wonder he did not fall down and 
break his knees into the bargain ! ” 

“Well, to be sure!” said my driver; “that is a 
queer thing ! I never knew that horses picked up 
stones before.” 

“Didn’t you?” said the farmer rather contemp- 
tuously. “ They do, however, and the best of them 
will do it, and can’t help it sometimes on such roads 
as these. And if you don’t want to lame your horse, 
you must look sharp and get them out quickly. 
This foot is very much bruised,” he said, setting it 
gently down and patting me. “ If I might advise, 
sir, you had better drive him gently for a while ; 
the foot is a good deal hurt, and the lameness will 
not go off directly.” 

Then mounting his cob and raising his hat to the 
lady, he trotted off. 

When he was gone, my driver began to flop the 
reins about and whip the harness, by which I under- 
stood that I was to go on, which, of course, I did, 
glad that the stone was gone, but still in a good deal 
of pain. 

This was the sort of experience we job horses 
often came in for. 


134 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

COCKNEYS. 

Then there is the steam-engine style of driving. 
These drivers were mostly people from towns, who 
never had a horse of their own, and generally trav- 
eled by rail. 

They always seemed to think that a horse was 
something like a steam-engine, only smaller. At 
any rate, they think that if only they pay for it, a 
horse is bound to go just as far and just as fast and 
with just as heavy a load as they please. And be 
the roads heavy and muddy, or dry and good ; be 
they stony or smooth, uphill or downhill, it is all 
the same — on, on, on, one must go, at the same pace, 
with no relief and no consideration. 

I well remember one spring evening Rory and I 
had been out for the day. Rory was the horse that 
mostly went with me when a pair was ordered, and 
a good honest fellow he was. We were coming 
home at a good smart pace, about twilight. Our 
road turned sharp to the left ; but as we were close 
to the hedge on our own side, and there was plenty 
of room to pass, our driver did not pull us in. As 
we neared the corner I heard a horse and two 


COCKNEYS. 


135 


wheels coming rapidly down the hill towards us. 
The hedge was high, and I could see nothing, but 
the next moment we were upon each other. 

Happily for me, I was on the side next the hedge. 
Rory was on the left side of the pole, and had not 
even a shaft to protect him. The man who was 
driving was making straight for the corner, and 
when he came in sight of us he had no time to pull 
over to his own side. The whole shock came upon 
Rory. The gig shaft ran right into the chest, mak- 
ing him stagger back with a cry that I shall never 
forget. The other horse was thrown upon his 
haunches and one shaft broken. It turned out 
that it was a horse from our own stables, with 
the high-wheeled gig that the young men were so 
fond of. 

It was a long time before the wound healed, 
and then Rory was sold for coal-carting ; and 
what that is, up and down those steep hills, only 
horses know. Some of the sights I saw there, where 
a horse had to come downhill with a heavily loaded 
two-wheel cart behind him, on which no brake could 
be placed, make me sad even now to think of. 

After Rory was disabled, I often went in the car- 
riage with a mare named Peggy, who stood in the 
next stall to mine. She was a strong, well-made 
animal, of a bright dun color, beautifully dappled, 


136 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


and with a dark brown mane and tail. There was 
no high breeding about her, but she was very pretty 
and remarkably sweet-tempered and willing. Still, 
there was an anxious look about her eye, by which 
I knew that she had some trouble. 

The first time we went out together I thought 
she had a very odd pace. She seemed to go partly 
on a trot, partly on a canter, three or four paces, 
and then a little jump forward. It was very un- 
pleasant for any horse who pulled with her, and 
made me quite fidgety. When we got home, I 
asked her what made her go in that odd, awkward 
way. 

“Ah,” she said, in a troubled manner, “I know 
my paces are very bad, but what can I do ? It 
really is not my fault. It is just because my legs 
are so short. I stand nearly as high as you, but 
your legs are a good three inches longer above your 
knee than mine, and, of course, you can take a much 
longer step and go much faster. You see I did 
not make myself. I wish I could have done so ; 
I would have had long legs then. All my troubles 
come from my short legs,” said Peggy, in a de- 
sponding tone. 

“ But how is it,” I said, “ when you are so strong 
and good-tempered and willing ? ” 

“ Why, you see,” said she, “ men will go so fast, 


COCKNEYS. 


137 


and if one can’t keep np with other horses it is 
nothing but whip, whip, whip, all the time. And 
so I have had to keep up as best I could, and there- 
fore have got into this ugly shuffling pace. It was 
not always so. When I lived with my first master 
I always went a good regular trot, but then he was 
not in such a hurry. He was a young clergyman in 
the country, and a good, kind master he was. He 
had two churches a good way apart, and a great 
deal of work, but he never scolded or whipped me 
for not going faster. He was very fond of me. I 
only wish I were with him now ; but he had to 
leave and go to a large town, and then I was sold 
to a farmer. 

“ Some farmers, you know, are capital masters ; 
but I think this one was a low sort of man. He 
cared nothing about good horses or good driving; 
he only cared for going fast. I went as fast as I 
could, but that would not do, and he was always 
whipping ; so I got into this way of making a 
spring forward, to keep up. On market nights he 
used to stay very late at the inn, and then drive 
home at a gallop. 

“ One dark night he was galloping home as usual, 
when all on a sudden the wheel came against some 
great heavy thing in the road, and turned the gig 
over in a minute. He was thrown out and his arm 


138 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


broken, and, I think, some of his ribs. At any rate, 
it was the end of my living with him, and I was 
not sorry. But you see it will be the same every- 
where for me, if men must go so fast. I wish my 
legs were longer ! ” 

Poor Peggy! I was very sorry for her, and I 
could not comfort her, for I knew how hard it was 
upon slow-paced horses to be put with fast ones. 
All the whipping comes to their share, and they 
can’t help it. 

She was often used with the phaeton, and was 
very much liked by some of the ladies, because she 
was so gentle. Some time after this she was sold 
to two ladies who drove themselves, and wanted a 
safe, good horse. 

I met her several times out in the country, going 
a good steady pace, and looking as gay and con- 
tented as a horse could be. I was very glad to see 
her, for she deserved a good place. 

After she left us, another horse came in her stead. 
He was young, and had a bad name for shying and 
starting, by which he had lost a good place. I 
asked him what made him shy. 

“Well, I hardly know,” he said. “I was timid 
when I was young, and was a good deal frightened 
several times, and if I saw anything strange I used 
to turn and look at it. You see, with our blinders 


COCKNEYS. 


139 


one can’t see or understand what a thing is unless 
one looks round, — and then my master always gave 
me a whipping, which, of course, made me start 
on, and did not make me less afraid. I think if 
he had let me just look at things quietly, and see 
that there was nothing to hurt me, it would have 
been all right, and I should have got used to 
them. 

“ One day an old gentleman was riding with him, 
and a large piece of white paper or rag blew across 
just on one side of me. I shied and started for- 
ward. My master as usual whipped me smartly, 
but the old man cried out, ‘ You’re wrong! you’re 
wrong ! You should never whip a horse for shying. 
He shies because he is frightened, and you only 
frighten him more and make the habit worse/ So 
I suppose all men don’t do so. 

“ I am sure I don’t want to shy for the sake of it. 
But how should one know what is dangerous and 
what is not, if one is never allowed to get used to any- 
thing ? I am never afraid of what I know. Now, 
I was brought up in a park where there were deer. 
Of course, I knew them as well as I did a sheep or 
a cow, but they are not common, and I know many 
sensible horses who are frightened at them, and 
who kick up quite a disturbance before they will 
pass an inclosure where there are deer. ” 


140 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


I knew what my companion said was true, and I 
wished that every young horse had as good masters 
as Farmer Grey and Squire Gordon. 

Of course, we sometimes came in for good driv- 
ing. I remember one morning I was put to the 
light gig, and taken to a house in Pulteney Street. 
Two gentlemen came out. The taller of them came 
round to my head. Looked at the bit and bridle, 
and just shifted the collar with his hand, to see if 
it fitted comfortably. 

“ Do you consider this horse wants a curb ? ” he 
said to the ostler. 

“ Well,” said the man, “ I should say he would go 
just as well without. He has an uncommonly good 
mouth, and though he lias a fine spirit he has no 
vice ; but we generally find people like the curb.” 

“ I don’t like it,” said the gentleman ; “ be so 
good as to take it off, and put the rein in at the 
cheek. An easy mouth is a great thing on a long 
journey, is it not old fellow ? ” he said, patting my 
neck. 

Then he took the reins, and they both got up. I 
can remember now how quietly he turned me round, 
and then with a light feel of the rein, and drawing 
the whip gently across my back, we were off. 

I arched my neck and set off at my best pace. I 
found I had some one behind me who knew how a 


A THIEF. 


141 


good horse ought to be driven. It seemed like old 
times again, apd made me feel quite gay. 

This gentleman took a great liking to me, and 
after trying me several times with the saddle he 
prevailed upon my master to sell me to a friend of 
his, who wanted a safe, pleasant horse for riding. 
And so it came to pass that in the summer I was 
sold to Mr. Barry. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

A THIEF. 

My new master was an unmarried man. He lived 
at Bath, and was much engaged in business. His 
doctor advised him to take horse exercise, and for 
this purpose he bought me. He hired a stable a 
short distance from his lodgings, and engaged a man 
named Filcher as groom. My master knew very lit- 
tle about horses, but he treated me well, and I should 
have had a good and easy place but for circum- 
stances of which he was ignorant. He ordered 
the best hay with plenty of oats, crushed beans, 
and bran, with rye grass, as the man might think 
needful. I heard the master give the order, so I 
knew there was plenty of good food, and I thought 
I was well off. 


142 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


For a few days all went on well. I found tliat 
my groom understood liis business. He kept tbe 
stable clean and airy, he groomed me thoroughly, 
and was never otherwise than gentle. He had been 
an ostler in one of the great hotels in Bath. He 
had given that up, and now cultivated fruit and 
vegetables for the market. His wife bred and fat- 
tened poultry and rabbits for sale. After a while it 
seemed to me that my oats came veiy short. I had 
the beans, but bran was mixed with them instead 
of oats, of which there were very few ; certainly not 
more than a quarter of what there should have been. 

In two or three weeks this began to tell upon my 
strength and spirits. The grass food, though very 
good, was not the thing to keep up my condition 
without corn. However, I could not complain, nor 
make known my wants. So it went on for about 
two months. I wondered my master did not see that 
something was the matter. However, one afternoon 
he rode out into the country to see a friend of his, a 
gentleman farmer, who lived on the road to Wells. 

This gentleman had a very quick eye for horses. 
After he had welcomed his friend, he said, casting 
his eye over me, — 

“ It seems to me, Barry, that your horse does not 
look so well as he did when you first had him ; has 
he been well ? ” 


A TIIIEF. 


143 


“Yes, I believe so,” said my master; “but he is 
not nearly so lively as he was. My groom tells me 
that horses are always dull and weak in the autumn, 
and that I must expect it.” 

“ Autumn, fiddlestick ! ” said the farmer. “ Why, 
this is only August. With your light work and 
good food he ought not to go down like this, even 
if it were autumn. How do you feed him ? ” 

My master told him. The other shook his head 
slowly, and began to feel me over. 

“ I can’t say who eats your corn, my dear fellow, 
but I am much mistaken if your horse gets it. 
Have you ridden very fast ? ” 

“No, very gently.” 

“Then just put your hand here,” said he, passing 
his hand over my neck and shoulder. “He is as 
warm and damp as a horse just come up from grass. 
I advise you to look into your stable a little more. 
I hate to be suspicious, and, thank Heaven, I have 
no cause to be, for I can trust my men, present or 
absent ; but there are mean scoundrels, wicked 
enough to rob a dumb beast of his food. You must 
look into it.” And turning to his man who had 
come to take me, “ Give this horse a right good feed 
of bruised oats, and don’t stint him.” 

“Dumb beasts!” Yes, we are; but if I could 
have spoken, I could have told my master where his 


144 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


oats went to. My groom used to come every morn- 
ing about six o’clock, and with him a little boy, wlio 
always brought a covered basket. He used to go 
with his father into the harness room, where the 
corn was kept, and I could see them, when the door 
stood ajar, fill a little bag with oats out of the bin, 
and then he used to be off. 

Five or six mornings after this, just as the boy 
had left the stable, the door was pushed open, and 
a policeman walked in, holding the child tight by 
the arm. Another policeman followed, and locked 
the door on the inside, saying, “ Show me the place 
where your father keeps his rabbits’ food.” 

The boy looked very frightened and began to cry ; 
but there was no escape, and he led the way to the 
corn-bin. Here the policeman found another empty 
bag like that which was found full of oats in the 
boy’s basket. 

Filcher was cleaning my feet at the time, but they 
soon saw him, and though he blustered a good deal 
they walked him off to the “ lock-up,” and his boy 
with him. I heard afterwards that the boy was not 
held to be guilty, but that the man was sentenced 
to prison for two months. 


A HUMBUG. 


145 


CHAPTER XXX. 

A HUMBUG. 

In a few days my new groom came. He was a 
tall, good-looking fellow enough; but if ever there 
was a humbug in the shape of a groom, Alfred 
Smirk was the man. He was very civil to me, and 
never used me ill. In fact, he did a great deal of 
stroking and patting, when his master was there to 
see it. He always brushed my mane and tail with 
water, and my hoofs with oil, before he brought me 
to the door, to make me look fine. But as to 
cleaning my feet, or looking to my shoes, or groom- 
ing me thoroughly, he thought no more of that than 
if I had been a cow. He left my bit rusty, my sad- 
dle damp, and my crupper stiff. 

Alfred Smirk considered himself very handsome. 
He spent a great deal of time about his hair, whis- 
kers, and necktie before a little looking-glass in the 
harness room. When his master was speaking to 
him, it was always, a Yes, sir; yes, sir,” — touching 
his hat at every word. Every one thought he was 
a very nice young man, and that Mr. Barry was 
very fortunate to secure him. I should say he 
was the laziest, most conceited fellow I ever came 
10 


146 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


near. Of course it was a great thing not to be ill- 
used, but then a horse wants more than that. I 
had a loose box, and might have been very comfort- 
able if he had not been too indolent to clean it out. 
He never took all the straw away, and the smell 
from what lay underneath was very bad ; while the 
strong vapors that rose made my eyes smart and in- 
flame, and I did not feel the same appetite for my food. 

One day his master came in and said, “ Alfred, 
the stable smells rather strong ; should you not give 
that stall a good scrubbing, and throw down plenty 
of water ? ” 

“Well, sir,” he said, touching his cap, “FLl do so 
if you please, sir; but it is rather dangerous, sir, 
throwing down water in a horse’s box. They are 
very likely to take cold, sir. I should not like to 
do him an injury, but I’ll do it if you please, sir.” 

“ Well,” said his master, “I should not like him 
to take cold, but I don’t like the smell of this 
stable. Do you think the drains are all right ? ” 

“Well, sir, now you mention it, I think the drain 
does sometimes send back a smell; there may be 
something wrong, sir.” 

“ Then send for the bricklayer and have it seen 
to,” said his master. 

“Yes, sir, I will.” 

The bricklayer came, and pulled up a great many 


A HUMBUG. 


147 


bricks, but found nothing amiss; so he put down 
some lime and charged the master five shillings, 
and the smell in my box was as bad as ever. But 
that was not all : standing as I did on a quantity of 
moist straw, my feet grew unhealthy and tender, 
and the master used to say, — 

“ I don’t know what is the matter with this horse ; 
he goes very fumble-footed. I am sometimes afraid 
he will stumble.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Alfred, “I have noticed the same 
myself, when I have exercised him.” 

Now the fact was that he hardly ever did exer- 
cise me, and w r hen the master was busy I often 
stood for days together without stretching my legs 
at all, and yet being fed just as high as if I were at 
hard work. This often disordered my health, and 
made me sometimes heavy and dull, but more often 
restless and feverish. He never even gave me a 
meal of green food or a bran mash, which would 
have cooled me, for he was altogether as ignorant 
as he was conceited. Instead of exercise or change 
of food, I had to take horse balls and draughts. 
These, besides the nuisance of having them poured 
down my throat, used to make me feel ill and un- 
comfortable. 

One day my feet were so tender that, trotting 
over some fresh stones with my master on my back, 


148 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


I made two serious stumbles. As lie came through 
Lansdown into the city, he stopped at the farrier’s, 
and asked him to see what was the matter with me. 
The man took up my feet one by one and examined 
them ; then standing up and dusting his hands one 
against the other, he said, — 

“Your horse has got the 1 thrush,’ and badly, too. 
His feet are very tender ; it is fortunate that he has 
not been down. I wonder your groom has not seen 
to it before. This is the sort of thing we find in 
foul stables, where the litter is never properly 
cleaned out. If you will send him here to-morrow I 
will attend to the hoof, and I will direct your man 
how to apply the liniment which I will give him.” 

The next day I had my feet thoroughly cleansed 
and stuffed with tow soaked in some strong lotion ; 
and a very unpleasant business it was. 

The farrier ordered all the litter to be taken out 
of my box day by day, and the floor kept very 
clean. Then I was to have bran mashes, a little 
green food, and not so much corn, till my feet were 
well again. With this treatment I soon regained my 
spirits. Mr. Barry, however, was so much disgusted 
at being twice deceived by his grooms that he de- 
termined to give up keeping a horse, and to hire 
when he wanted one. I was therefore kept till my 
feet were quite sound, and was then sold again. 


PART III. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

A HORSE FAIR. 

No doubt a horse fair is a very amusing place 
to those who have nothing to lose ; at any rate, 
there is plenty to see. 

Long strings of young horses out of the country, 
fresh from the marshes; droves of shaggy little 
Welsh ponies, no higher than Merrylegs; hundreds 
of cart horses of all sorts, some of them with their 
long tails braided up and tied with scarlet cord ; 
and a good many like myself, handsome and high- 
bred, but fallen into the middle class, through some 
accident or blemish, unsoundness of wind, or some 
other complaint. 

There were some splendid animals quite in their 
prime, and fit for anything. They were throwing 
out their legs and showing off their paces in high 
style, as they were trotted out with a leading rein, 
the groom running by the side. But round in the 
background there were a number of poor things, 
149 


150 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


sadly broken down witli Lard work, witk their knees 
knuckling over, and their hind legs swinging out at 
every step. And there were some very dejected- 
looking old horses, with the under lip hanging 
down and the ears lying back heavily, as if there 
was no more pleasure in life, and no more hope. 
There were some so thin you might see all their 
ribs, and some with old sores on their backs and 
hips. These were sad sights for a horse to look 
upon, who knows not but he may come to the same 
state. 

There was a great deal of bargaining, of running 
up and beating down. And if a horse may speak 
his mind so far as he understands, I should say 
there were more lies told and more trickery at that 
horse fair than a clever man could give an account 
of. I was put with two or three other strong, 
useful-looking horses, and a good many people came 
to look at us. The gentlemen always turned from 
me when they saw my broken knees ; though the man 
who had me swore it was only a slip in the stall. 

The first thing was to pull my mouth open, then 
to look at my eyes, then feel all the way down my 
legs and give me a hard feel of the skin and flesh, 
and then try my paces. It was wonderful what a 
difference there was in the way these things were 
done. Some did it in a rough, offhand way, as if 


A HORSE FAIR. 


151 


one were only a piece of wood. Others would pass 
tlieir hands gently over one’s body, with a pat now 
and then, as much as to say, “ By your leave.” Of 
course, I judged a good deal of the buyers by their 
manners to myself. 

There was one man with whom, I thought, if he 
would buy me, I should be happy. He was not a 
gentleman, nor yet one of the loud, flashy sort that 
called themselves so. He was rather a small man, 
but well made, and quick in all his motions. I 
knew in a moment, by the way he handled me, that 
he was used to horses. He spoke gently, and his 
gray eye had a kindly, cheery look in it. It may 
seem strange to say — but it is true, all the same — 
that the clean, fresh smell there was about him made 
me take to him. No smell of old beer and tobacco, 
which I hated, but a fresh smell as if he had come 
out of a hayloft. 

He offered twenty-three pounds for me ; but that 
was refused, and he walked away. I looked after 
him, but he was gone, and a very hard-looking, 
loud-voiced man came. I was dreadfully afraid he 
would buy me ; but he walked off. One or two 
more came who did not mean business. Then the 
hard-faced man came back again and offered twenty- 
three pounds. A very close bargain was being 
driven, for my salesman began to think he should 


152 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


not get all lie asked, and must come down. Just 
then, however, the gray-eyed man came back again. 
I could not help reaching out my head towards him. 
He stroked my face kindly. 

“ Well, old chap,” he said, “ I think we should 
suit each other. I’ll give twenty-four for him.” 

“ Say twenty-five and you shall have him.” 

“ Twenty -four ten,” said my friend, in a very de- 
cided tone, “ and not another sixpence — yes or no ? ” 

“ Done,” said the salesman ; “ and you may depend 
upon it there’s a monstrous deal of quality in that 
horse, and if you want him for cab work, he’s a 
bargain.” 

The money was paid on the spot, and my new 
master took my halter, and led me out of the fair 
to an inn, where he had a saddle and bridle ready. 
He gave me a good feed of oats, and stood by whilst 
I ate it, talking to himself and talking to me. 
Half an hour after, we were on our way to London, 
through pleasant lanes and country roads, until we 
came into the great London thoroughfare, on which 
we traveled steadily, till in the twilight we reached 
the great city. The gas lamps were already lighted. 
There were streets to the right, and streets to the 
left, and streets crossing each other, for mile upon 
mile. I thought we should never come to the end 
of them. At last, in passing through one, we came 


A HORSE FAIR. 


153 


to a long cab stand, when my rider called out in a 
cheery voice, “ Good-night, Governor ! ” 

“ Hallo ! ” cried a voice. “ Have you got a good 
one ? ” 

“ I think so,” replied my owner. 

“ I wish you luck with him.” 

“Thank ye, Governor,” and he rode on. We soon 
turned up one of the side-streets, and about half- 
way up that we turned into a very narrow street, 
with rather poor-looking houses on one side, and 
what seemed to be coach-houses and stables on the 
other. 

My owner pulled up at one of the houses and 
whistled. The door flew open, and a young woman, 
followed by a little girl and boy, ran out. There 
was a very lively greeting as my rider dismounted. 

“ Now, then, Harry, my boy, open the gates, and 
mother will bring us the lantern.” 

The next minute they were all standing round me 
in a small stable yard. 

“ Is he gentle, father ? ” 

“Yes, Holly, as gentle as your own kitten; come 
and pat him.” 

At once the little hand was patting about all over 
my shoulder without fear. How good it felt ! 

“ Let me get him a bran mash while you rub him 
down,” said the mother. 


154 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


“ Do, Polly, it’s just what he wants ; and I know 
you’ve got a beautiful mash ready for me.” 

“ Sausage dumpling and apple turnover ! ” shouted 
the boy, which set them all laughing. I was led 
into a comfortable, clean-smelling stall with plenty 
of dry straw, and after a capital supper I lay down, 
thinking I was going to be happy. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

A LONDON CAB HORSE. 

My new master’s name was Jeremiah Barker, but 
as every one called him Jerry, I shall do the same. 
Polly, his wife, was just as good a match as a man 
could have. She was a plump, trim, tidy little 
woman, with smooth dark hair, dark eyes, and a 
merry little mouth. The boy was nearly twelve 
years old, a tall, frank, good-tempered lad. Little 
Dorothy (Dolly they called her) was her mother 
over again, at eight years old. They were all won- 
derfully fond of each other. I never knew such a 
happy, merry family before or since. 

Jerry had a cab of his own, and two horses, which 
he drove and attended to himself. His other horse 
was a tall, white, rather large-boned animal, called 
“Captain.” He was old now, but when he was 


A LONDON CAB HORSE. 


155 


young lie must have been splendid. He had still a 
proud way of holding his head and arching his neck. 
In short, he was a high-bred, fine-mannered, noble old 
horse, every inch of him. He told me that in his 
early youth he went to the Crimean War. He be- 
longed to an officer in the cavalry, and used to lead 
the regiment. I will tell more of that hereafter. 

Captain went out in the cab all the morning. 
Harry came in after school to feed me and give me 
water. In the afternoon I was put into the cab. 
Jerry took as much pains to see whether the 
collar and bridle fitted comfortably as if he had 
been John Manly over again. There was no check- 
rein, no curb. What a blessing that was ! 

After driving through the side-street we came to 
the large cab stand where Jerry had said “Good- 
night.” We pulled up in the rank at the back of the 
last cab. Two or three men came round and began 
to look at me and pass their remarks. 

Then there came up a broad-faced man. He was 
a jolly-looking fellow, and the other men made way 
for him. He looked me all over, as if he had been 
going to buy me. Then straightening himself up, 
he said, “He’s the right sort for you, Jerry ; I don’t 
care what you gave for him, he’ll be worth it.” Thus 
my character was established on the stand. 

This man’s name was Grant, but he was called 


156 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


“ Gray Grant,” or “ Governor Grant.” He had been 
the longest on that stand of any of the men, and he 
took it upon himself to settle matters and stop dis- 
putes. 

The first week of my life as a cab horse was very 
trying. I had never been used to London, and the 
noise, the hurry, the crowds of horses, carts, and 
carriages, that I had to make my way through, made 
me feel anxious and harassed. I soon found, how- 
ever, that I could perfectly trust my driver, and 
then I made myself easy, and got used to it. 

Jerry was as good a driver as I had ever known ; 
and what was better, he took as much thought for 
his horses as he did for himself. He soon found out 
that I was willing to work and do my best. 

In a short time I and my master understood each 
other, as well as horse and man can do. In the 
stable, too, he did all that he could for our comfort. 
Then when we were resting, he just took off our 
halters and put up the bars, and so we could turn 
about and stand whichever way we pleased, which 
is a great comfort. 

He kept us very clean, and gave us as much 
change of food as he could, and always plenty of it. 
Not only that, but he always gave us plenty of clean 
fresh water, which he allowed to stand by us both 
night and day, except, of course, when we came in 


AN OLD WAR HORSE. 


157 


warm. Some people say that a horse ought not to 
drink all he likes ; but I know if we are allowed to 
drink when we want it we drink only a little at a 
time, and it does us a great deal more good than 
swallowing down half a bucketful at a time, be- 
cause we have been left without till we are thirsty 
and miserable. 

Some grooms will go home to their beer and 
leave us for hours with our dry hay and oats and 
nothing to moisten them. Then, of course, we gulp 
down too much at once, which helps to spoil our 
breathing and sometimes chills our stomachs. But 
the best thing that we had here was our Sundays 
for rest. We worked so hard in the week, that I 
do not think we could have kept up to it, but for 
that day. Besides, we then had time to enjoy each 
other’s company. It was on those days that I learned 
my companion’s history. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

AN OLD WAR HORSE. 

Captain had been broken in and trained for an 
army horse. His first owner was an officer of cav- 
alry going out to the Crimean War. He said he 
quite enjoyed the training with all the other horses, 


158 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


trotting together, turning together, to the right hand 
or the left, halting at the word of command, or dash- 
ing forward at full speed at the sound of the trum- 
pet or signal of the officer. He was, when young, a 
dark, dappled, iron gray, and regarded very hand- 
some. His master, a young, high-spirited gentle- 
man, was very fond of him, and treated him from 
the first with the greatest care and kindness. He 
told me he thought the life of an army horse was 
very pleasant. When he came, however, to being 
sent abroad over the sea in a great ship, he almost 
changed his mind. 

“ That part of it,” said he, “ was dreadful ! Of 
course, we could not walk off the land into the ship. 
Strong straps were put under our bodies, and then 
we were lifted off our legs in spite of our struggles, 
and were swung through the air over the water, to 
the deck of the great vessel. There we were placed 
in small close stalls, and never for a long time saw 
the sky, or were able to stretch our legs. The ship 
sometimes rolled about in high winds, and we were 
knocked about, and felt bad enough. However, at 
last it came to an end, and we were hauled up, and 
swung over again to the land. We were very glad, 
and snorted and neighed for joy, when we once 
more felt firm ground under our feet. 

“ We soon found that the country we had come to 


AN OLD WAR HORSE. 


159 


was very different from our own, and that w~e had 
many hardships to endure besides the fighting. 
Many of the men, however, were so fond of their 
horses, that they did everything they could to make 
them comfortable, in spite of snow, wet, and all 
things out of order.” 

“But what about the fighting?” said I. “Was 
not that worse than Anything else ? ” 

“Well,” said he, “I hardly know. We always 
liked to hear the trumpet sound, and to be called 
out, and were impatient to start off, though some- 
times we had to stand for hours, waiting for the 
word of command. When the word was given, we 
used to spring forward as gayly and eagerly as if 
there w^ere no cannon balls, bayonets, or bullets. I 
believe that so long as we felt our rider firm in the 
saddle, and his hand steady on the bridle, not one 
of us gave way to fear, not even when the terrible 
bombshells whirled throught the air and burst into 
a thousand pieces. 

“ I, with my noble master, went into many actions 
without a wound. Although I saw horses shot 
down with bullets, pierced through with lances, and 
gashed with fearful sabre-cuts, and although we left 
them dead on the field, or dying in the agony of 
their wounds, I don’t think I feared for myself. 
My master’s cheery voice, as he encouraged his men, 


160 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


made me feel as if he and I could not be killed. I 
had such perfect trust in him, that whilst he was 
guiding me, I was ready to charge up to the very 
cannon’s mouth. I saw many brave men cut down, 
many fall mortally wounded from their saddles. I 
had heard the cries and groans of the dying, I had 
cantered over ground slippery with blood, and fre- 
quently had to turn aside to* avoid trampling on 
wounded man or horse, but, until one dreadful day, 
I had never felt terror; that day I shall never 
forget.” 

Here old Captain paused for a while and drew a 
long breath. I waited, and he went on : 

“It was one autumn morning, and as usual, an 
hour before daybreak our cavalry had turned out, 
ready caparisoned for the day’s work, whether it 
might be lighting or waiting. The men stood by 
their horses waiting, ready for orders. As the light 
increased, there seemed to be some excitement 
among the officers; and before the day was well 
begun, we heard the firing of the enemy’s guns. 

“ Then one ’of the officers rode up and gave the 
word for the men to mount, and in a second, every 
man was in his saddle, and every horse stood expect- 
ing the touch of the rein, or the pressure of his 
rider’s heels, all animated, all eager. Still we had 
been trained so well, that, except by the champing 


AN OLD WAR HORSE. 


161 


of our bits, and tbe restive tossing of our heads from 
time to time, it could not be said that we stirred. 

“ My dear master and I were at the head of the 
line, and as all sat motionless and watchful, he took 
a little stray lock of my mane which had turned 
over on the wrong side, laid it over on the right, and 
smoothed it down with his hand. Then patting my 
neck, he said, ‘We shall have a day of it to-day, 
Bayard, my beauty; but we’ll do our duty as we 
have always done.’ He stroked my neck that morn- 
ing more, I think, than he had ever done before; 
quietly on and on, as if he were thinking of some- 
thing else. I loved to feel his hand on my neck, 
and I arched my crest proudly and happily ; but I 
stood very still, for I knew all his moods — when 
he liked me to be quiet, and when gay. 

“ I cannot tell all that happened on that day, but 
I will tell of the last charge that we made together : 
It was across a valley right in front of the enemy’s 
cannon. By this time we were well used to the 
roar of heavy guns, the rattle of musket fire, and the 
flying of shot near us ; but never had I been under 
such a fire as we rode through on that day. From 
the right, from the left, and from the front, shot and 
shell poured in upon us. Many a brave man went 
down, many a horse fell, flinging his rider to the 
earth. Many a horse without a rider ran wildly out 
11 


162 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


of the ranks. Then, terrified at being alone, with 
no hand to guide him, came pressing in amongst his 
old companions, to gallop with them to the charge. 

“ Fearful as it was, no one stopped, no one turned 
back. Every moment the ranks were thinned, but 
as our comrades fell, we closed in to keep them 
together. Instead of being shaken or staggered in 
our pace, our gallop became faster and faster as we 
neared the cannon, all clouded in white smoke, while 
the red fire flashed through it. 

“ My master, my dear master was cheering on his 
comrades with his right arm raised on high, when 
one of the balls whizzing close to my head, struck 
him. I felt him stagger with the shock, though he 
uttered no cry. I tried to check my speed, but the 
sword dropped from his right hand, the rein fell 
loose from the left, and sinking backward from 
the saddle he fell to the earth. The other riders 
swept past us, and by the force of their charge I 
was driven from the spot where he fell. 

“ I wanted to keep my place by his side, and not 
leave him under that rush of horses’ feet, but it was 
in vain. And now without a master or a friend, I 
was alone on that great slaughter ground. Fear 
took hold on me, and I trembled as I had never 
trembled before. There, I too, as I had seen other 
horses do, tried to join in the ranks and gallop with 


AN OLD WAR HORSE. 


163 


them ; but I was beaten off by the swords of the sol- 
diers. Just then, a soldier whose horse had been killed 
under him, caught at my bridle and mounted me ; 
and with this new master I was again going forward. 

“ Our gallant company, however, was cruelly over- 
powered, and those who remained alive after the 
fierce fight for the guns, came galloping back over 
the same ground. Some of the horses had been so 
badly wounded that they could scarcely move from 
the loss of blood. Other noble creatures were try- 
ing on three legs to drag themselves along, and 
others were struggling to rise on their fore feet, 
when their hind legs had been shattered by shot. 
Their groans were piteous to hear, and the beseech- 
ing look in their eyes as those who had escaped 
passed by, and left them to their fate, I shall never 
forget. After the battle the wounded men were 
brought in, and the dead were buried.” 

“ And what about the wounded horses ? ” I said ; 
“ were they left to die ? ” 

“No, the army farriers went over the field with 
their pistols, and shot all that were ruined. Some 
that had only slight wounds were brought back and 
attended to, but the greater part of the noble, will- 
ing creatures that went out that morning never 
came back! In our stables there was only about 
one in four that returned. 


164 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


“ I never saw my dear master again. I believe 
he fell dead from the saddle. I never loved any 
other master so well. I went into many other en- 
gagements, but was only once wounded, and then 
not seriously. When the war was over, I came 
back again to England, as sound and strong as when 
I went out.” 

I said, “ I have heard people talk about war as if 
it were a very fine thing.” 

“ Ah ! ” said he, “ I should think they never saw 
it. No . doubt it is very fine when there is no 
enemy, when it is just exercise and parade, and 
sham fight. Yes, it is very fine then; but when 
thousands of good brave men and horses are killed, 
or crippled for life, it has a very different look.” 

“ Do you know what they fought about ? ” said I. 

“No,” he said, “that is more than a horse can 
understand, but the enemy must have been very 
wicked people, if it was right to go all that way 
over the sea on purpose to kill them.” 


CHAPTER XXXIY. 

THE SUNDAY CAB. 

I never knew a better man than my new master. 
He was kind and good, and as strong for the right 


THE SUNDAY CAB. 


165 


as John Manly; and so good-tempered and merry 
that very few people could pick a quarrel with him. 

One morning, as Jerry had just put me into the 
shafts and was fastening the traces, a gentleman 
walked into the yard. “Your servant, sir,” said 
Jerry. 

“ Good morning, Mr. Barker,” said the gentleman. 
“ I should be glad to make some arrangements with 
you for taking Mrs. Briggs regularly to church on 
Sunday mornings. We go to the New Church now, 
and that is somewhat farther than she can walk.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” said J erry, “ but I have only 
taken out a six -days’ license, and therefore I could 
not take a fare on a Sunday. It would not be 
legal.” 

“ Oh ! ” said the other, “ I did not know yours 
was a six-days’ cab. But, of course, it would be 
very easy to alter your license. I would see that 
you did not lose by it. The fact is, Mrs. Briggs 
very much prefers you to drive her.” 

“ I should be glad to oblige the lady, sir, but I 
had a seven-days’ license once, and the work was 
too hard for me, and too hard for my horses. Year 
in and year out, not a day’s rest, and never a Sun- 
day with my wife and children. I was never able 
to go to a place of worship, which I had always been 
used to doing before I took to the driving box. So 


166 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


for tlie last five years I liave only taken a six-days’ 
license, and I find it better all round.” 

“Well, of course,” replied Mr. Briggs, “it is very 
proper that every person should have rest, and be 
able to go to church on Sundays, but I should have 
thought you would not have minded such a short 
distance for the horse, and only once a day. You 
would have all the afternoon and evening for your- 
self, and we are very good customers, you know.” 

“Yes, sir, that is true, and I am grateful for all 
favors, I am sure. Anything that I could do to 
oblige you, or the lady, I should be proud and happy 
to do, but I can’t give up my Sundays, sir, indeed I 
can’t. I am stronger and healthier altogether, now 
that I have a day of rest. The horses are fresh too, 
and do not wear out nearly so fast. The six-day 
drivers all tell me the same, and I have laid by more 
money in the Savings Bank than I ever did before. 
As for the wife and children, sir, why, heart alive ! 
they would not go back to the seven days for all 
they could see.” 

“Oh, very well,” said the gentleman. “Don’t 
trouble yourself, Mr. Barker, any further. I will 
inquire somewhere else,” and he walked away. 

“Well,” says Jerry to me, “ we can’t help it, Jack, 
old boy, we must have our Sundays.” 

“ Polly ! ” he shouted, “ Polly ! come here ! ” 


THE SUNDAY CAB. 


167 


She was there in a minute. 

“ What is it all about, Jerry ! ” 

“Why, my dear, Mr. Briggs wants me to take 
Mrs. Briggs to church every Sunday morning. I 
say, I have only a six-days’ license. He says, ‘ Get 
a seven-days’ license, and I’ll make it worth your 
while ;’ and you know, Polly, they are very good 
customers to us. If I don’t oblige her in this matter 
it is very likely we shall lose them altogether. What 
do you say, little woman ? ” 

“ I say, Jerry,” said she, speaking very slowly, “ I 
say, if Mrs. Briggs would give you a sovereign every 
Sunday morning, I would not have you a seven- 
days’ cabman again. We have known what it was 
to have no Sundays, and now we know what it is to 
call them our own. Thank God, you earn enough 
to keep us, though it is sometimes close work to pay 
for all the oats and hay, the license, and the rent 
besides. But Harry will soon be earning some- 
thing, and I would rather struggle on harder than 
we do than go back to those horrid times, when you 
hardly had a minute to look at your own children, 
and we never could go to a place of worship to- 
gether, or have a happy, quiet day. God forbid 
that we should ever turn back to those times ; that’s 
what I say, Jerry.” 

“And that is just what I told Mr. Briggs, my 


168 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


dear,” said Jerry, “ and what I mean to stick to. So 
don’t go and fret yourself, Polly ” (for she had begun 
to cry). “ I would not go back to the old times if I 
earned twice as much, so that is settled, little woman. 
Now cheer up, and I’ll be off to the stand.” 

Three weeks had passed away after this conversa- 
tion, and no order had come from Mrs. Briggs. So 
there was nothing but taking jobs from the stand. 

It soon became known that Jerry had lost his best 
customer, and for what reason. Most of the men 
said he was a fool, but two or three took his part. 

“ If workingmen don’t stick to their Sunday,” said 
Truman, “ they’ll soon have none left. It is every 
man’s right and every beast’s right. By God’s law 
we have a day of rest, and by the law of England 
we have a day of rest. And I say we ought to hold 
to the rights these laws give us, and keep them for 
our children.” 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE GOLDEN EULE. 

Two or three weeks after this, as we came into 
the yard rather late in the evening, Polly came run- 
ning across the road with the lantern (she always 
brought it to him if it was not very wet). 


THE GOLDEN RULE. 


169 


“It lias all come right, Jerry; Mrs. Briggs sent 
lier servant tliis afternoon to ask you to take lier 
out to-morrow at eleven o’clock. I said, ‘ Yes, I 
tliougkt so, but we supposed she employed some one 
else now.’ 

“ ‘ Well,’ says he, ‘the real fact is, master was put 
out because Mr. Barker refused to come on Sun- 
days, and he has been trying other cabs, but there’s 
something wrong with them all. Some drive too 
fast, and some too slow, and the mistress says, there 
is not one of them so nice and clean as yours, and 
nothing will suit her but Mr. Barker’s cab again.’ ” 

Polly was almost out of breath, and Jerry broke 
out into a merry laugh. 

After this, Mrs. Briggs wanted Jerry’s cab quite 
as often as before, never, however, on a Sunday. 
But there came a day when we had Sunday work, 
and this was how it happened. We had all come 
home on Saturday night very tired, and very glad 
to think that the next day would be all rest, but 
so it was not to be. 

On Sunday morning Jerry was cleaning me in the 
yard, when Polly stepped up to him, looking very 
full of something. 

“ What is it ? ” said Jerry. 

“Well, my dear,” she said, “poor Dinah Brown 
has just received a letter saying that her mother 


170 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


is dangerously ill, and that she must go directly if 
she wishes to see her alive. The place is more than 
ten miles away from here, out in the country, and 
she says if she takes the train she should still have 
four miles to walk. And so weak as she is, and the 
baby only four weeks old, of course, that would be 
impossible. She wants to know if you would take 
her in your cab, and she promises to pay you faith- 
fully, as she can get the money.” 

“ Tut, tut ! we’ll see about that. It was not the 
money I was thinking about, but of losing our Sun- 
day. The horses are tired, and I am tired, too, — 
that’s where it pinches.” 

“ It pinches all round, for that matter,” said 
Polly, “ for it’s only half Sunday without you, but 
you know we should do to other people as we 
should like they should do to us. And I know 
very well what I should like if my mother were 
dying. And Jerry, dear, I am sure it won’t break 
the Sabbath ; for if pulling a poor beast or donkey 
out of a pit would not spoil it, I am quite sure tak- 
ing poor Dinah would not do it.” 

“Why, Polly, you are as good as the minister, 
and so, as I’ve had my Sunday-morning sermon 
early to-day, you may go and tell Dinah that I’ll be 
ready for her as the clock strikes ten. But stop, — 
just step round to butcher Braydon’s with my com- 


THE GOLDEN RULE. 


171 


pliments, and ask him if he would lend me his light 
wagon. I know he never uses it on the Sunday, and 
it would make a great difference to the horse.” 

Away she went, and soon returned, saying that 
he could have the wagon and welcome. 

“ All right,” said he ; “ now put me up a bit of 
bread and cheese, and I’ll be back in the afternoon 
as soon as I can.” 

I was selected for the journey, and at ten o’clock 
we started, in a light, high- wheeled gig, which ran 
so easily that, after the four-wheeled cab, it seemed 
like nothing. 

It was a fine May day, and as soon as we were out 
of the town, the sweet air, the smell of the fresh 
grass, and the soft country roads were as pleasant 
as they used to be in the old times, and I soon 
began to feel quite fresh. 

Dinah’s family lived in a small farmhouse, up a 
green lane, close by a meadow with some fine shady 
trees. There were two cows feeding in it. A 
young man asked Jerry to bring his wagon into the 
meadow, and he would tie me up in the cowshed ; 
he wished he had a better stable to offer. 

“ If your cows would not be offended,” said Jerry, 
“ there is nothing my horse would like so well as to 
have an hour or two in your beautiful meadow. 
He’s quiet, and it would be a rare treat for him.” 


172 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


“ Do, and welcome,” said the young man. “ The 
best we have is at your service for your kindness to 
my sister. We shall be having some dinner in an 
hour, and I hope you’ll come in, though with mother 
so ill we are all in disorder in the house.” 

Jerry thanked him kindly, but said as he had 
some dinner with him, there was nothing he should 
like so well as walking about in the meadow. 

When my harness was taken off, I did not know 
what I should do first, — whether to eat the grass, or 
roll over on my back, or lie down and rest, or have 
a gallop across the meadow out of sheer spirits at 
being free. So I did all by turns. Jerry seemed 
to be quite as happy as I was. He sat down by a 
bank under a shady tree, and listened to the birds, 
then he sang himself, and read out of the little 
brown book he is so fond of, then wandered round 
the meadow and down by a little brook, where he 
picked the flowers and the hawthorn, and tied them 
up with long sprays of ivy. Then he gave me a 
good feed of the oats which he had brought with 
him ; but the time seemed all too short, — I had not 
been in a field since I left poor Ginger at Earlshall. 

We came home gently, and Jerry’s first words 
were as we came into the yard, “ Well, Polly, I have 
not lost my Sunday after all, for the birds were 
singing hymns in every bush, and I joined in the 


DOLLY AND A REAL GENTLEMAN. 


173 


service. And as for Jack, he was like a young 
colt.” 

When he handed Dolly the flowers, she jumped 
about for joy. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

DOLLY AND A REAL GENTLEMAN. 

The winter came in early, with a great deal of 
cold and wet. There was snow, or sleet, or rain, 
almost every day for weeks, changing only for keen, 
driving winds, or sharp frosts. The horses all felt 
it very much. When it is a dry cold, a couple of 
good thick rugs will keep the warmth in us. But 
when it is soaking rain, they soon get wet through 
and are no good. Some of the drivers had a water- 
proof cover to throw over, which was a fine thing. 
Some of the men, however, were so poor that they 
could not protect either themselves or their horses, 
and many of them suffered very much that winter. 
When we horses had worked half the day we went 
to our dry stables, and could rest ; whilst they had 
to sit on their boxes, sometimes staying out as late 
as one or two o’clock in the morning, if they had a 
party to wait for. 

When the streets were slippery with frost or 


174 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


snow, that was the worst of all for us horses. One 
mile of such traveling, with a weight to draw, and 
no firm footing, would take more out of us than 
four miles on a good road. Every nerve and muscle 
of our bodies is on the strain to keep our balance. 
And added to this, the fear of falling is more ex- 
hausting than anything else. If the roads are very 
bad indeed, our shoes are sharpened, but that makes 
us feel nervous at first. 

When the weather was very bad, many of the 
men would go and sit in the tavern close by, and 
get some one to watch for them. But they often lost 
a fare in that way, and could not, as Jerry said, be 
there without spending money. He never went to 
the Rising Sun. There was a coffee-shop near, 
where he now and then went. It was his opinion 
that spirits and beer made a man colder after- 
wards, and that dry clothes, good food, cheerful- 
ness, and a comfortable wife at home were the best 
things to keep a cabman warm. 

Polly always supplied him with something to eat 
when he could not get home, and sometimes he 
would see little Holly peeping from the corner of 
the street, to make sure whether “ father” was on 
the stand. If she saw him, she would run off at full 
speed and soon come back with something in a tin 
or basket, some hot soup or pudding that Polly had 


DOLLY AND A REAL GENTLEMAN. 


175 


ready. It was wonderful how such a little thing 
could get safely across the street, often thronged 
with horses and carriages. But she was a brave 
little maid, and felt it quite an honor to bring “ fa- 
ther’s first course,” as he used to call it. She was a 
general favorite on the stand, and there was not a 
man who would not have seen her safe across the 
street, if Jerry had not been able to do it. 

One cold, windy day, Dolly had brought Jerry a 
basin of something hot, and was standing by him 
whilst he ate it. He had scarcely begun when a 
gentleman, walking towards us very fast, held up his 
umbrella. Jerry touched his hat in return, gave the 
basin to Dolly, and was taking off my blanket when 
the gentleman, hastening up, cried out, “No, no, 
finish your soup, my friend. I have not much time 
to spare, but I can wait till you have done, and set 
your little girl safe on the pavement.” So saying, 
he seated himself in the cab. Jerry thanked him 
kindly, and came back to Dolly. 

“ There, Dolly, that’s a gentleman. That’s a real 
gentleman, Dolly. He has got time and thought for 
the comfort of a poor cabman and a little girl.” 

Jerry finished his soup, set the child across, and 
then took his orders to drive to Clapham Bise. 
Several times after that, the same gentleman took 
our cab. I think he was very fond of dogs and 


176 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


liorses, for whenever we took him to his own door, 
two or three dogs would come bounding out to meet 
him. Sometimes he came round and patted me, say- 
ing in his quiet, pleasant way, “ This horse has got 
a good master, and he deserves it.” It was a very 
rare thing for any one to notice the horse that had 
been working for him. I have known ladies to do it 
now and then, and this gentleman, and one or two 
others have given me a pat and a kind word. 
Ninety-nine out of a hundred, however, would as soon 
think of patting the steam engine that drew the train. 

This gentleman was not young, and there was a 
forward stoop in his shoulders as if he were always 
going at something. His lips were thin and close 
shut, though they had a very pleasant smile. His 
eye was keen, and there was something in his jaw 
and the motion of his head that made one think he 
was very determined in anything he set about. His 
voice was pleasant and kind. Any horse would 
trust that voice, though it was just as decided as 
everything else about him. 

One day, he and another gentleman took our cab. 

They stopped at a shop in R Street, and whilst 

his friend went in, he stood at the door. A little 
ahead of us, on the other side of the street, a cart 
with two very fine horses was standing before some 
wine vaults. The carter was not with them, and I 


DOLLY AND A REAL GENTLEMAN. 177 

cannot tell how long they had been standing, but 
they seemed to think they had waited long enough, 
and began to move off. Before they had gone many 
paces, the carter came running out and caught them. 
He seemed furious at their having moved, and with 
whip and rein punished them brutally, even beating 
them about the head. Our gentleman saw it all, and 
stepping quickly across the street, said in a decided 
voice, — 

“ If you don’t stop that immediately, I’ll have you 
arrested for leaving your horses, and for brutal 
conduct.” 

The man, who had clearly been drinking, poured 
forth some abusive language, but he left off knock- 
ing the horses about, and taking the reins, got into 
his cart. Meantime our friend had quietly taken a 
note-book from his pocket, and looking at the name 
and address painted on the cart, he wrote something 
down. 

“What do you want with that?” growled the 
carter, as he cracked his whip and was moving on. 
A nod and a grim smile was the only answer he got. 

On returning to the cab, our friend was joined by 
his companion, who said laughingly, “ I should have 
thought, Wright, you had enough business of your 
own to look after, without troubling yourself about 
other people’s horses and servants.” 

12 


178 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


Our friend stood still for a moment, and throwing 
his head a little back, said, “ Do you know why this 
world is as bad as it is ? ” 

“ No,” said the other. 

“Then I’ll tell you. It is because people think 
only about their own business, and won’t trouble 
themselves to stand up for the oppressed, nor bring 
the wrong-doer to light. I never see a wicked thing 
like that without doing what I can, and many a 
master has thanked me for letting him know how 
his horses have been used.” 

“ I wish there were more gentlemen like you, sir,” 
said Jerry, “for they are wanted badly enough in 
this city.” 

After this we continued our journey, and as they 
got out of the cab, our friend was saying, “ My doc- 
trine is this: ‘If we see cruelty or wrong that we 
have the power to stop, and then do nothing, we 
make ourselves sharers in the guilt.’ ” 


CHAPTEK XXXVII. 

POOH GINGER. 

One day, whilst our cab and many others were 
waiting outside one of the parks where music was 
playing, a shabby old cab drove up beside ours. 


POOR GINGER. 


179 


The horse was an old worn-out chestnut, with an ill- 
kept coat, and bones that showed plainly through 
it. The knees knuckled over, and the fore-legs were 
very unsteady. I had been eating some hay, and 
the wind rolled a little lock of it that way, and the 
poor creature put out her long thin neck and picked 
it up, and then turned round and looked about for 
more. There was a hopeless look in the dull eye that 
I could not help noticing, and then, as I was think- 
ing where I had seen that horse before, she looked 
full at me and said, “ Black Beauty, is that you ? ” 

It was Ginger ! but how changed ! The beauti- 
fully arched and glossy neck was now straight, and 
lank, and fallen in. The clean straight legs and 
delicate fetlocks were swollen. The joints were 
grown out of shape with hard work. The face, that 
was once so full of spirit and life, was now full of 
suffering, and I could tell by the heaving of her sides, 
and her frequent cough, how bad her breath was. 

Our drivers were standing together a little way 
off, so I sidled up to her a step or two, that we 
might have a little quiet talk. It was a sad tale 
that she had to tell. 

After a twelvemonth’s run off at Earlshall, she 
was considered to be fit for work again, and was 
sold to a gentleman. For a little while she got on 
very well, but after a longer gallop than usual the 


180 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


old strain returned, and after being rested and doc- 
tored sbe was again sold. In this way she changed 
hands several times, but always getting lower down. 

“ And so at last,” said she, “ I was bought by a 
man who keeps a number of cabs and horses, and 
lets them out. You look well off, and I am glad of 
it, but I could not tell you what my life has been. 
When they found out my weakness, they said I was 
not worth what they gave for me, and that I must 
go into one of the low cabs and just be used up. 
That is what they are doing, whipping and working 
with never one thought of what I suffer — they paid 
for me, and must get it out of me, they say. The 
man who hires me now pays a deal of money to the 
owner every day, and so he has to get it out of me 
too. And so it’s all the week round and round, 
with never a Sunday rest.” 

I said, “ You used to stand up for yourself if you 
were ill-used.” 

“ Ah ! ” she said, “ I did once, but it’s no use. 
Men are strongest, and if they are cruel and have no 
feeling, there is nothing that we can do but just 
bear it — bear it on and on to the end. I wish the 
end were come ; I wish I were dead. I have seen 
dead horses, and I am sure they do not suffer pain. 
I wish I may drop down dead at my work, and not 
be sent off to the knackers.” 


ELECTION DAY. 


181 


I was very much troubled, and I put my nose up 
to hers, but I could say nothing to comfort her. I 
think she was pleased to see me, for she said, “ You 
are the only friend I ever had.” 

Just then her driver came up and, with a tug at 
her mouth, backed her out of the line and drove off, 
leaving me very sad indeed. 

A short time after this, a cart with a dead horse 
in it passed our cab-stand. The head hung out of 
the cart tail, the lifeless tongue was slowly dropping 
with blood. And the sunken eyes ! but I can’t speak 
of them, the sight was too dreadful. It was a chest- 
nut horse with a long thin neck. I saw a white 
streak down the forehead. I believe it was Ginger. 
I hoped it was, for then her troubles would be over. 
Oh ! if men were more merciful they would shoot 
us before we came to such misery. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

ELECTION DAY. 

As we came into the yard, Polly came out. 

“ Jerry ! I’ve had Mr. B here asking about 

your vote, and he wants to hire your cab for the 
election. He will call for an answer.” 

“ Well, Polly, you may say that my cab will be 


182 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


otherwise engaged. I should not like to have it 
pasted over with their great bills, and as to making 
Jack and Captain race about to the public-houses to 
bring up half-drunken voters, why, I think it would 
be an insult to the horses. No, I sha’n’t do it.” 

“ I suppose you’ll vote for the gentleman ? He 
said he was of your politics.” 

“ So he is in some things, but I shall not vote for 
him, Polly. You know what his trade is ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Well, a man who gets rich by that trade may 
be all very well in some ways, but he is blind as to 
what workingmen want. I could not in my con- 
science send him up to make the laws. I dare say 
they’ll be angry, but every man must do what he 
thinks to be the best for his country.” 

At last election day came. There was no lack 
of work for Jerry and me. First came a stout, 
puffy gentleman with a carpet bag. He wanted to 
go to the Bishopsgate Station. Then we were called 
by a party who wished to be taken to the Regent’s 
Park. Next we were wanted in a side street where 
a timid, anxious old lady was waiting to be taken 
to the Bank. There we had to stop to take her 
back again, and just as we had set her down, a red- 
faced gentleman, with a handful of papers, came 
running up out of breath, and before Jerry could 


ELECTION DAY. 


183 


get clown, lie had opened the door, popped himself 
in, and called out “ Bow Street Police Station, 
quick ! ” So off we went with him, and when after 
another turn or two we came back, there was no 
other cab on the stand. Jerry put on my nose-bag, 
for, as he said, “ We must eat when we can on such 
days as these. So munch away, Jack, and make the 
best of your time, old boy.” 

I found I had a good feed of crushed oats wetted 
up with a little bran. This would be a treat any 
day, but very refreshing then. Jerry was so 
thoughtful and kind, what horse would not do his 
best for such a master ? Then he took out one of 
Polly’s meat pies, and standing near me, he began 
to eat it. The streets were very full, and the cabs, 
with the candidates’ colors on them, were dashing 
about through the crowd as if life and limb were of 
no consequence. 

Jerry and I had not eaten many mouthfuls before 
a poor young woman, carrying a heavy child, 
came along the street. She was looking this way 
and that way, and seemed quite bewildered. Pres- 
ently she made her way up to Jerry and asked if he 
could tell her the way to St. Thomas’s Hospital, and 
how far it was to get there. She had come from 
the country that morning, she said, in a market cart. 
She did not know about the election, and was quite 


184 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


a stranger in London. She had got an order for the 
Hospital for her little boy. The child was crying 
with a feeble, joining cry. 

“ Poor little fellow ! ” she said, “ he suffers a deal 
of pain. He is four years old, and can’t walk any 
more than a baby. But the doctor said if I could 
get him into the Hospital, he might get well. Pray, 
sir, how far is it ? and which way is it ? ” 

“ Why, missis,” said Jerry, “you can’t get there 
walking through crowds like this ! Why, it is three 
miles away, and that child is heavy.” 

“Yes, bless him, he is; but I am strong, thank 
God, and if I knew the way, I think I should get on 
somehow. Please tell me the way.” 

“You can’t do it,” said Jerry; “you might be 
knocked down and the child be run over. Now 
look here, just get into this cab, and I’ll drive you 
safe to the Hospital. Don’t you see the rain is 
coming on ? ” 

“ No, sir, no ; I can’t do that, thank you, I have 
only just money enough to get back with. Please 
tell me the way.” 

“Look you here, missis,” said Jerry, “I’ve got a 
wife and dear children at home, and I know a 
father’s feelings. Now get you into that cab, and I’ll 
take you there for nothing. I’d be ashamed of myself 
to let a woman and a sick child run a risk like that.” 


ELECTION DAY. 


185 


“Heaven bless you !” said the woman, and burst 
into tears. 

“ There, there, cheer up, my dear ; I’ll soon take 
you there. Come, let me put you inside.” 

As Jerry went to open the door, two men, with 
colors in their hats and button-holes, ran up, calling 
out, “ Cab ! ” 

“ Engaged,” cried J erry. But one of the men 
pushing past the woman, sprang into the cab, fol- 
lowed by the other. Jerry looked as stern as a 
policeman. “ This cab is already engaged, gentle- 
men, by that lady.” 

“ Lady ! ” said one of them. “ Oh ! she can wait. 
Our business is very important ; besides, we were in 
first ; it is our right, and we shall stay in.” 

A droll smile came over Jerry’s face as he shut 
the door upon them. “All right, gentlemen, pray 
stay in as long as it suits you. I can wait whilst 
you rest yourselves.” And turning his back upon 
them, he walked up to the young woman, who was 
standing near me. “ They’ll soon be gone,” he said, 
laughing. “ Don’t trouble yourself, my dear.” 

And they soon were gone, for when they under- 
stood Jerry’s dodge, they got out, calling him all 
sorts of bad names, and blustering about his num- 
ber and getting a summons. After this little stop- 
page we were soon on our way to the Hospital, 


186 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


going as much as possible through by-streets. Jerry 
rang the great bell, and helped the young woman 
out. 

“ Thank you a thousand times,” she said. “ I 
could never have got here alone.” 

“ You’re very welcome, and I hope the dear 
child will soon be better.” 

The rain was now coming down fast, and just as 
we were leaving the Hospital, the door opened 
again, and the porter called out, “Cab!” We 
stopped, and a lady came down the steps. Jerry 
seemed to know her at once. She put back her veil 
and said, “Barker! Jeremiah Barker! is it you? I 
am very glad to find you here. You are just the 
friend I want, for it is very difficult to get a cab in 
this part of London to-day.” 

“ I shall be proud to serve you, ma’am. I am 
right glad I happened to be here. Where may I 
take you to, ma’am ? ” 

“To the Paddington Station, and then if we are 
in good time, as I think we shall be, you shall tell 
me all about Mary and the children.” 

We got to the station in good time, and being un- 
der shelter, the lady stood a good while talking to 
Jerry. I found she had been Polly’s mistress, and 
after many inquiries about her, she said, — 

“ How do you find the cab work suit you in win- 


ELECTION DAY. 


187 


ter ? I know Mary was rather anxious about you 
last year.” 

“ Yes, ma’am, she was. I had a bad cough that 
followed me up quite into the warm weather, and 
when I am kept out late she does worry herself a 
good deal. You see, ma’am, it is all hours and all 
weathers, and that does try a man’s constitution. 
But I am getting on pretty well, and I should feel 
quite lost if I had not horses to look after. I was 
brought up to it, and I am afraid I should not do so 
well at anything else.” 

“ Well, Barker,” she said, “it would be a great 
pity that you should seriously risk your health in 
this work, not only for your own but for Mary’s and 
the children’s sake. There are many places where 
good drivers or good grooms are wanted. And if 
ever you think you ought to give up this cab work, 
let me know.” 

Then sending some kind messages to Mary, she 
put something into his hand, saying, “ There is five 
shillings each for the two children. Mary will 
know how to spend it.” 

Jerry thanked her and seemed much pleased, and 
turning out of the station we at last reached home, 
and I, at least, was tired. 


188 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 
jerry’s new year. 

Christmas and the New Year are very merry 
times for some people ; but for cabmen and cab- 
men’s horses it is no holiday, though it may be a 
harvest. There are so many parties, balls, and 
places of amusement open, that the work is hard 
and often late. Sometimes driver and horse have 
to wait for hours in the rain or frost, shivering with 
cold, whilst the merry people within are dancing 
away to the music. I wonder whether the beautiful 
ladies ever think of the weary cabman waiting on 
his box, and his patient beast standing till legs get 
stiff with cold. 

On the evening of the New Year we had to take 
two gentlemen to a house in one of the West End 
Squares. We set them down at nine o’clock, and 
were told to come again at eleven, “ but,” said one 
of them, “as it is a card party, you may have to 
wait a few minutes, but don’t be late.” 

As the clock struck eleven we were at the door, 
for Jerry was always punctual. The clock chimed 
the quarters, one, two, three, and then struck twelve, 
but the door did not open. 


JERRY’S NEW YEAR. 


189 


The wind had been very changeable, with squalls 
of rain during the day, but now it came on sharp, 
driving sleet, which seemed to come all the way 
round. It was very cold, and there was no shelter. 
Jerry got off his box and came and pulled one of 
my blankets a little more over my neck. Then he 
took a turn or two up and down, stamping his feet. 
Then he began to beat his arms, but that set him off 
coughing. So he opened the cab door and sat at the 
bottom with his feet on the pavement, and was a 
little sheltered. Still the clock chimed the quarters, 
and no one came. At half-past twelve, he rang the 
bell, and asked the servant if he would be wanted 
that night. 

“ Oh, yes, you’ll be wanted safe enough,” said 
the man. “You must not go, it will soon be over.” 
Again Jerry sat down, but his voice was so hoarse I 
could hardly hear him. 

At a quarter past one the door opened, and the 
two gentlemen came out. They got into the cab 
without a word, and told Jerry where to drive. It 
was nearly two miles. My legs were numb with 
cold, and I thought I should have stumbled. When 
the men got out, they never said they were sorry to 
have kept us waiting so long, but were angry at the 
charge. However, as Jerry never charged more than 
was his due, so he never took less, and they had to 


190 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


pay for tlie two hours and a quarter waiting. But 
it was hard-earned money to Jerry. 

At last we got home. He could hardly speak, and 
his cough was dreadful. Polly asked no questions, 
but opened the door and held the lantern for him. 

“ Can’t I do something ? ” she said. 

“Yes; get Jack something warm, and then boil 
me some gruel.” 

This was said in a hoarse whisper. He could 
hardly get his breath, but he gave me a rub down 
as usual, and even went up into the hayloft for an 
extra bundle of straw for my bed. Polly brought 
me a warm mash that made me comfortable, and 
then they locked the door. 

It was late the next morning before any one came, 
and then it was only Harry. He cleaned us and fed 
us, and swept out the stalls. Then he put the straw 
back again as if it were Sunday. He was very still, 
and neither whistled nor sang. At noon he came 
again and gave us our food and water. This time 
Holly came with him. She was crying, and I could 
gather from what they said, that Jerry was danger- 
ously ill, and the doctor said it was a bad case. So 
two days passed, and there was great trouble in- 
doors. We saw only Harry, and sometimes Holly. 
I think she came for company, for Polly was always 
with Jerry, and he had to be kept very quiet. 


JERRY’S NEW YEAR. 


191 


On the third day, whilst Harry was in the stable, 
a tap came at the door, and Governor Grant came in. 

“ I wouldn’t go to the house, my boy,” he said, 
“ but I want to know how your father is.” 

“He is very bad,” said Harry. “He can’t be 
much worse. They call it ‘ bronchitis.’ The doctor 
thinks it will turn one way or the other to-night.” 

“ That’s bad, very bad,” said Grant, shaking his 
head. “ I know two men who died of that last week. 
It takes ’em off in no time. But whilst there’s life 
there’s hope, so you must keep up your spirits.” 

“Yes,” said Harry, quickly, “and the doctor said 
that father had a better chance than most men, be- 
cause he didn’t drink. He said yesterday the fever 
was so high, that if father had been a drinking man, 
it would have burnt him up like a piece of paper. 
But I believe he thinks he will get over it. Don’t 
you think he will, Mr. Grant ? ” 

The Governor looked puzzled. 

“ If there’s any rule that good men should get over 
these things, I am sure he will, my boy. He’s the 
best man I know. I’ll look in early to-morrow.” 

Early next morning he was there. 

“Well?” said he. 

“Father is better,” said Harry. “Mother hopes 
he will get over it.” 

“Thank God !” said the Governor, “and now you 


192 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


must keep him warm, and keep his mind easy, and 
that brings me to the horses. Jack will be all the 
better for the rest of a week or two in a warm sta- 
ble, and you can easily take him a turn up and down 
the street to stretch his legs. But this young one, 
if he does not get work, he will soon be all up on 
end, as you may say, and will be rather too much 
for you. And when he does go out, there’ll be an 
accident.” 

“ It is like that now,” said Harry. “ I have kept 
him short of corn, but he’s so full of spirit I don’t 
know what to do with him.” 

“ Just so,” said Grant. “Now look here, will you 
tell your mother that if it is agreeable to her I will 
come for him every day till something is arranged, 
and take, him for a good spell of work, and what- 
ever he earns, I’ll bring your mother half of it, and 
that will help with the horses’ feed. Your father 
belongs to a good association, I know, but that 
won’t keep the horses, and they’ll be eating their 
heads off all this time. I’ll come at noon and hear 
what she says,” and without waiting for Harry’s 
thanks, he was gone. 

At noon I think he went and saw Polly, for he 
and Harry came to the stable together, harnessed 
Hotspur, and took him out. 

For a week or more he came for Hotspur, and 


JERRY’S NEW YEAR. 


193 


when Harry thanked him or said anything about 
his kindness, he laughed it off, saying, it was all 
good luck for him, for his horses were wanting a 
little rest which they would not otherwise have had. 

Jerry grew better steadily, but the doctor said 
that he must never go back to cab work again 
if he wished to be an old man. The children had 
many consultations together about what father and 
mother would do, and how they could help to earn 
money. 

One afternoon Hotspur was brought in very wet 
and dirty. 

“The streets are nothing but slush,” said the Gov- 
ernor. “It will give you a good warming, my boy, 
to get him clean and dry.” 

“ All right, Governor,” said Harry, “ I shall not 
leave him till he is. You know I have been trained 
by my father.” 

“ I wish all the boys had been trained like you,” 
said the Governor. 

While Harry was sponging off the mud from 
Hotspur’s body and legs, Dolly came in, looking 
very full of something. 

“ Who lives at Fairstowe, Harry? Mother has 
got a letter from Fairstowe. She seemed so glad, 
and ran upstairs to father with it.” 

“ Don’t you know ? Why, it is the name of Mrs. 

13 


194 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


Fowler’s place — mother’s old mistress, you know — 
the lady that father met last summer, who sent you 
and me five shillings each.” 

a Oh ! Mrs. Fowler ; of course, I know all about 
her. I wonder what she is writing to mother 
about.” 

“ Mother wrote to her last week,” said Harry. 
“ You know she told father if ever he gave up the 
cab work, she would like to know. I wonder what 
she says. Run in and see, Dolly.” 

Harry scrubbed away at Hotspur with a huish ! 
huish ! like an old ostler. In a few minutes Dolly 
came dancing into the stable. 

“ Oh ! Harry, there never was anything so lovely ! 
Mrs. Fowler says we are all to go and live near 
her. There is a cottage now empty that will 
just suit us, with a garden, and a hen-house, and 
apple trees, and everything ! And her coachman is 
going away in the spring, and then she will want 
father in his place. And there are good families 
round, where you can get a place in the garden, or 
the stable, or as a page boy. And there’s a good 
school for me. And mother is laughing and crying 
by turns, and father does look so happy ! ” 

“ That’s jolly,” said Harry, “and just the right 
thing, I should say. It will suit father and mother 
both. I don’t intend, though, to be a page boy 


JERRY’S NEW YEAR. 


195 


with tight clothes and rows of buttons. I’ll be a 
groom or a gardener.” 

It was quickly settled that as soon as Jerry was well 
enough they should remove to the country, and that 
the cab and horses should be sold as soon as possible. 

This was heavy news for me, for I was not young 
now, and could not look for any improvement in 
my condition. Since I left Birtwick I had never 
been so happy as with my dear master Jerry. But 
three years of cab work, even under the best condi- 
tions, will tell on one’s strength, and I felt that I 
was not the horse that I had been. 

Grant said at once that he would take Hotspur; and 
there were men on the stand who would have bought 
me. But Jerry said I should not go to cab work 
again with just anybody, and the Governor promised 
to find a place for me where I should be comfortable. 

The day came for going away. Jerry had not 
been allowed to go out yet, and I never saw him 
after that New Year’s eve. Polly and the children 
came to bid me good-by. “ Poor old Jack ! dear old 
Jack ! I wish we could take yon with ns,” she 
said ; and then, laying her hand on my mane, she 
put her face close to my neck and kissed me. 
Dolly was crying and kissed me too. Harry stroked 
me a great deal, but said nothing, only he seemed 
very sad, and so I was led away to my new place. 


PART IV. 


CHAPTER XL. 

JAKES AND THE LADY. 

I was sold to a corn dealer and baker, whom 
Jerry knew, and with him he thought I should have 
good food and fair work. In the first he was quite 
right, and if my master had always been on the 
premises, I do not think I should have been over- 
loaded. There was a foreman, however, who was 
always hurrying and driving every one, and fre- 
quently when I had quite a full load, he would order 
something else to be taken on. My carter, whose 
name was Jakes, often said it was more than I 
ought to take, but the other always overruled him. 
“ ’Twas no use going twice when once would do, and 
he chose to get business forward.” 

Jakes, like the other carters, always had the check- 
rein up, which prevented me from drawing easily, 
and by the time I had been there three or four 
months, I found the work telling very much on my 
strength. 


196 


JAKES AND THE LADY. 


197 


One day I was loaded more tlian usual, and part 
of the road was a steep uphill. I used all my 
strength, but I could not get on, and was obliged 
continually to stop. This did not please my driver, 
and he laid his whip on badly. “ Get on, you lazy 
fellow,” he said, “ or I’ll make you.” 

Again I started the heavy load, and struggled on 
a few yards. Again the whip came down, and again 
I struggled forward. The pain of that great cart 
whip was sharp, but my mind was hurt quite as 
much as my poor sides. To be punished and abused 
when I was doing my very best was so hard it took 
the heart out of me. A third time he was flogging 
me cruelly, when a lady stepped quickly up to him, 
and said in a sweet, earnest voice : 

“ Oh ! pray do not whip your good horse any 
more. I am sure he is doing all he can, and the road 
is very steep. I am sure he is doing his best.” 

“ If doing his best won’t get this load up, he must 
do something more than his best. That’# all I 
know, ma’am,” said Jakes. 

“ But is it not a heavy load ? ” she said. 

“Yes, yes, too heavy,” he said; “but that’s not 
my fault. The foreman came just as we were start- 
ing, and would have three hundredweight more put 
on to save him trouble, and I must get on with it as 
well as I can.” 


19S 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


He was raising the whip again, when the lady 
said, — 

“ Pray, stop ; I think I can help yon if you will let 
me.” 

The man laughed. 

“ You see,” she said, “you do not give him a fair 
chance. He cannot use all his strength with his head 
held back as it is with that check-rein. If you would 
take it off, I am sure he would do better. Do try 
it,” she said persuasively. “ I should be very glad if 
you would.” 

“ Well, well,” said Jakes, with a short laugh, 
“ anything to please a lady, of course. How far 
would you wish it down, ma’am ? ” 

“ Quite down ; give him his head altogether.” 

The rein was taken off, and in a moment I put 
my head down to my very knees. What a comfort 
it was ! Then I tossed it up and down several 
times to get the aching stiffness out of my neck. 

“ P$br fellow ! that is what you wanted,” said 
she, patting and stroking me with her gentle 
hand. “ And now if you will speak kindly to 
him and lead him on, I believe he will be able to 
do better.” 

Jakes took the rein. “ Come on, Blackie.” I put 
down my head, and threw my whole weight against 
the collar. I spared no strength. The load moved 


JAKES AND THE LADY. 


199 


on, and I pulled it steadily up tlie hill, and then 
stopped to take breath. 

The lady had walked along the footpath, and now 
came across into the road. She stroked and patted my 
neck, as I had not been patted for many a long day. 

“You see he was quite willing when you gave 
him the chance. I am sure he is a fine -tempered 
creature, and I dare say has known better days. 
You won’t put that rein on again, will you ? ” for 
he was just going to hitch it up on the old plan. 

“Well, ma’am, I can’t deny that having his head 
has helped him up the hill, and I’ll remember it an- 
other time, and thank you ma’am. But if he went 
without a check-rein, I should be the laughing-stock 
of all the carters. It is the fashion, you see.” 

“ Is it not better,” she said, “ to lead a good fash- 
ion than to follow a bad one ? A great many gen- 
tlemen do not use check-reins now. Our carriage 
horses have not worn them for fifteen years, and 
work with much less fatigue than those who have 
them. Besides,” she added in a very serious voice, 
“we have no right to distress any of God’s creatures 
without a very good reason. We call them dumb 
animals, and so they are, for they cannot tell us how 
they feel, but they do not suffer less because they 
have no words. I must not, however, detain you 
now. I thank you for trying my plan with your 


200 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


good horse, and I am sure you will find it far better 
than the whip. Good-day.” And with another soft 
pat on my neck she stepped lightly across the path, 
and I saw her no more. 

“ That was a real lady, I’ll be bound for it,” said 
Jakes to himself. “ She spoke just as politely as if I 
were a gentleman, and I’ll try her plan, uphill, at 
any rate.” 

I must do Jakes the justice to say, that he let 
my rein out several holes, and going uphill after 
that he always gave me my head. But the heavy 
loads went on. Good feed and fair rest will keep 
up one’s strength under full work, but no horse 
can stand against overloading. And I was get- 
ting so thoroughly pulled down from this cause, 
that a younger horse was bought in my place. I 
may as well mention here what I suffered at this 
time from another cause. I had heard horses speak 
of it, but had never myself had experience of the 
evil. That was a badly-lighted stable. There 
was only one very small window at the end, and 
the consequence was that the stalls were almost 
dark. 

Besides the depressing effect this had on my spir- 
its, it very much weakened my sight, and when I 
was suddenly brought out of the darkness into the 
glare of daylight, it was very painful to my eyes. 


HARD TIMES. 


201 


Several times I stumbled over the threshold, and 
could scarcely see where I was going. 

I believe, had I stayed there very long, I should 
have become purblind. That would have been a 
great misfortune, for I have heard men say, that a 
stone-blind horse was safer to drive than one which 
had imperfect sight, as it generally makes them very 
timid. However, I escaped without any permanent 
injury to my sight, and was sold to a large cab 
owner. 


CHAPTER XLI. 

HARD TIMES. 

I shall never forget my new master. He had 
black eyes and a hooked nose. His mouth was as 
full of teeth as a bull-dog’s, and his voice was as 
harsh as the grinding of cart wheels over gravel 
stones. His name was Nicholas Skinner. 

I have heard men say, that seeing is believing. I 
should say that feeling is believing; for much as I 
had seen before, I never knew till now the utter 
misery of a cab-horse’s life. 

Skinner had a low set of cabs and a low set of 
drivers. He was hard on the men, and the men 
were hard on the horses. In this place we had no 
Sunday rest, and it was in the heat of summer. 


202 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


Sometimes, on a Sunday morning, a party of fast 
men would hire the cab for the day. Four of them 
inside and another with the driver, and I had to 
take them ten or fifteen miles out into the country, 
and back again. Never would any of them get 
down to walk up a hill, let it be ever so steep, or the 
day ever so hot — unless, indeed, when the driver was 
afraid I should not manage it. Sometimes I was so 
fevered and worn that I could hardly touch my food. 

How I used to long for the nice bran mash with 
nitre in it that Jerry used to give us on Saturday 
nights in hot weather to cool us down and make us 
comfortable. Then we had two nights and a whole 
day for unbroken rest, and on Monday morning we 
were as fresh as young horses again. Here, on the 
contrary, there was no rest, and my driver was just 
as hard as his master. He had a cruel whip, with 
something so sharp at the end that it sometimes 
drew blood, and he would even whip me under the 
belly, and flip the lash out at my head. Indignities 
like these took the heart out of me terribly, but still 
I did my best and never hung back ; for, as poor 
Ginger said, it was no use ; men are the strongest. 

My life was now so utterly wretched, that I 
wished I might, like Ginger, drop down dead at my 
work, and be out of my misery. One day my wish 
very nearly came to pass. 


HARD TIMES. 


203 


I went on the stand at eight in the morning, and 
had done a good share of work, when we had to 
take a person to the railway. A long train was just 
expected in, so my driver pulled up at the back of 
some of the outside cabs, to take the chance of a 
return fare. It was a very heavy train, and as all 
the cabs were soon engaged, ours was called for. 
There was a party of four — a noisy, blustering 
man with a lady, a little boy, and a young girl, and 
a great deal of luggage. The lady and the boy got 
into the cab, and while the man ordered about the 
luggage, the young girl came and looked at me. 

“ Papa,” she said, “ I am sure this poor horse can- 
not take us and all our luggage so far, he is so very 
weak and worn. Do look at him.” 

“ Oh ! he’s all right, miss,” said my driver. u He’s 
strong enough.” 

The porter, who was pulling about some heavy 
boxes, suggested to the gentleman whether, as there 
was so much luggage, he would not take a second 
cab. 

“ Can your horse do it, or can’t he ? ” said the 
blustering man. 

“ Oh ! he can do it all right, sir. Send up the 
boxes, porter. He could take more than that,” and 
he helped to haul up a box so heavy that I could 
feel the springs go down. 


204 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


“ Papa, papa, do take a second cab,” said the 
young girl in a beseeching tone. “ I am sure we are 
wrong, I am sure it is very cruel.” 

“ Nonsense, Grace, get in at once, and don’t make 
all this fuss. A pretty thing it would be if a man 
of business had to examine every cab-horse before 
he hired it, — the man knows his own business, of 
course. There, get in and hold your tongue ! ” 

My gentle friend had to obey. Box after box 
was dragged up and lodged on the top of the cab, 
or settled by the side of the driver. At last all was 
ready, and with his usual jerk at the rein, and slash 
of the whip, he drove out of the station. 

The load was very heavy, and I had had neither 
food nor rest since morning. But I did my best, as 
I always had done, in spite of cruelty and injustice. 

I got along fairly till we came to Ludgate Hill, 
but there, the heavy load and my own exhaustion 
were too much. I was struggling to keep on, 
goaded by constant jerks of the rein and use of the 
whip, when in a single moment — I cannot tell how 
— my feet slipped from under me, and I fell heavily 
to the ground on my side. The suddenness and the 
force with which I fell seemed to beat all the breath 
out of my body. 

I lay perfectly still. Indeed, I had no power to 
move, and I thought now I was going to die. I heard 


HARD TIMES. 


205 


a sort of confusion round me, loud angry voices, 
and the getting down of the luggage, but it was all 
like a dream. I thought I heard that sweet, pitiful 
voice saying, “ Oh ! that poor horse ! it is all our 
fault.” Some one came and loosened the throat 
strap of my bridle, and undid the traces which kept 
the collar so tight upon me. Some one said, “ He’s 
dead, he’ll never get up again.” Then I could hear 
a policeman giving orders, but I did not even open 
my eyes. I could only draw a gasping breath now 
and then. Some cold water was thrown over my 
head, and some cordial was poured into my mouth, 
and something was covered over me. 

I cannot tell how long I lay there, but I found 
my life coming back, and a kind-voiced man was 
patting me and encouraging me to rise. After some 
more cordial had been given me, and after one or 
two attempts, I staggered to my feet, and was gently 
led to some stables which were close by. Here I 
was put into a well-littered stall, and some warm 
gruel was brought to me, which I drank thankfully. 

In the evening I was sufficiently recovered to be 
led back to Skinner’s stables, where I think they 
did the best for me they could. In the morning 
Skinner came with a farrier to look at me. He ex- 
amined me very closely, and said, — 

“ This is a case of overwork more than of disease, 


206 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


and if you could give liiui a run off for six months, 
lie would be able to work again. At present there 
is not an ounce of strength in him.” 

“Then he must just go to the dogs,” said Skinner. 
“I have no meadows to nurse sick horses in, — he 
mi ght get well or he might not. That sort of thing 
doesn’t suit my business. My plan is to work ’em 
as long as they’ll go, and then sell ’em for what 
they’ll fetch, at the knacker’s or elsewhere.” 

“ If he were broken- winded,” said the farrier, “ you 
had better have him killed out of hand, but he is 
not. There is a sale of horses coming off in about 
ten days. If you rest him and feed him up, he may 
pick up, and you may get more than his skin is 
worth, at any rate,” 

Upon this advice, Skinner, rather unwillingly, I 
think, gave orders that I should be well fed and 
cared for, and the stableman, happily for me, carried 
out the orders with a much better will than his 
master had in giving them. Ten days of perfect 
rest, plenty of good oats, hay, bran mashes, with 
boiled linseed mixed in them, did more to get up 
my condition than anything else could have done. 
Those linseed mashes were delicious, and I began to 
think, after all, it might be better to live than go 
to the dogs. When the twelfth day after the acci- 
dent came, I was taken to the sale, a few miles out 


FARMER THOROUGHGOOD AND GRANDSON WILLIE. 207 

of London. I felt that any change from iny present 
place must be an improvement, so I held up my 
head, and hoped for the best. 


CHAPTEK XLII. 

FARMER THOROUGHGOOD AND HIS GRANDSON WILLIE. 

At this sale, of course, I found myself in company 
with broken-down horses — some lame, some broken- 
winded, some old, and some that I am sure it would 
have been merciful to shoot. 

The buyers and sellers too, many of them, looked 
not much better off than the poor beasts they were 
bargaining about. There were poor old men, trying 
to get a horse or pony for a few pounds, that might 
drag about some little wood or coal cart. There 
were poor men trying to sell a worn-out beast for 
two or three pounds, rather than have the greater 
loss of killing him. Some of them looked as if pov- 
erty and hard times had hardened them all over. 
There were others, however, that I would have 
willingly used the last of my strength in serving 
— poor and shabby, but kind and human, with 
voices that I could trust. 

There was one tottering old man that took a great 
fancy to me, and I to him, but I was not strong 


208 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


enough. Coming from the better part of the fair, I 
noticed a man who looked like a gentleman farmer, 
with a young boy by his side. He had a broad 
back and round shoulders, a kind, ruddy face, and 
he wore a broad-brimmed hat. When he came up 
to me and my companions, he stood still, and gave 
a pitiful look round upon us. I saw his eye rest 
on me. I had still a good mane and tail, which did 
something for my appearance. I pricked my ears 
and looked at him. 

“There’s a horse, Willie, that has known better 
days.” 

“ Poor old fellow ! ” said the boy. “ Do you think, 
grandpapa, he was ever a carriage horse ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, my boy,” said the farmer, coming 
closer. “He might have been anything when he 
was young. Look at his nostrils and his ears, the 
shape of his neck and shoulder. There’s a deal of 
breeding about that horse.” He put out his hand 
and gave me a kind pat on the neck. I put out my 
nose in answer to his kindness. The boy stroked 
my face. 

“ Poor old fellow ! See, grandpapa, how well 
he understands kindness. Could not you buy him 
and make him young again as you did with Lady- 
bird?” 

“ My dear boy, I can’t make all old horses young. 


FARMER THOROUGHGOOD AND GRANDSON WILLIE. 209 


Besides, Ladybird was not so very old as she was 
run down and badly used.” 

“Well, grandpapa, I don’t believe that this one is 
old. Look at his mane and tail. I wish you would 
look into his mouth, and then you could tell. 
Though he is so very thin, his eyes are not sunken 
like some old horses’.” 

The old gentleman laughed. “ Bless the boy ! he 
is as 1 horsey ’ as his old grandfather.” 

“But do look at his mouth, grandpapa, and ask 
the price. I am sure he would grow young in our 
meadows.” 

The man who had brought me for sale now put 
in his word. 

“ The young gentleman’s a real knowing one, sir. 
Now the fact is, this horse is just pulled down with 
overwork in the cabs. He’s not an old one, and I 
heard the veterinary say that a six months’ run off 
would set him right up, as his wind was not 
broken. I’ve had the tending of him these ten 
days past, and a pleasanter animal I never met with, 
arid ’twould be worth a gentleman’s while to give 
a five-pound note for him, and let him have a 
. chance. I’ll be bound he’d be worth twenty pounds 
next spring.” 

The old gentleman laughed, and the little boy 
looked up eagerly. 

14 


210 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


“ Oil, grandpapa, did you not say tlie colt sold for 
five pounds more than you expected ? You would 
not be poorer if you did buy this one.” 

The farmer slowly felt my legs, which were much 
swollen and strained. Then he looked at my mouth. 
“ Thirteen or fourteen, I should say. Just trot him 
out, will you ? ” 

I arched my poor thin neck, raised my tail a lit- 
tle, and threw out my legs as well as I could, for 
they were very stiff. 

“ What is the lowest you will take for him ? ” said 
the farmer as I came back. 

“ Five pounds, sir. That was the lowest price my 
master set.” 

“ ’Tis a speculation,” said the old gentleman, 
shaking his head, but at the same time slowly draw- 
ing out his purse, “ quite a speculation ! Have you 
any more business here ? ” he said, counting the 
sovereigns into his hand. 

“No, sir, I can take him for- you to the inn, if you 
please.” 

“ Do so ; I am now going there.” 

They walked forward, and I was led behind. 
The boy could hardly control his delight, and the 
old gentleman seemed to enjoy his pleasure. I had 
a good feed at the inn, and was then gently ridden 
home by a servant of my new master’s, and turned 


FARMER THOROUGHBRED AND GRANDSON WILLIE. 211 


into a large meadow with a shed in one corner 
of it. 

Mr. Thoroughgood, for that was the name of my 
benefactor, gave orders that I should have hay and 
oats every night and morning, and the run of the 
meadow during the day, and, “ You, Willie,” said 
he, “must take the oversight of him. I give him 
in charge to you.” 

The boy was proud of his charge, and undertook 
it in all seriousness. There was not a day when he 
did not pay me a visit. Sometimes he picked me 
out from amongst the other horses, and gave me a 
bit of carrot, or something good, or sometimes he 
stood by me whilst I ate my oats. He always came 
with kind words and caresses, and, of course, I 
grew very fond of him. He called me Old Crony, 
as I used to come to him in the field and follow him 
about. Sometimes he brought his grandfather, who 
always looked closely at my legs. 

“ This is our point, Willie,” he would say. “ But 
he is improving so steadily that I think we shall see 
a change for the better in the spring.” 

The perfect rest, the good food, the soft turf, and 
gentle exercise, soon began to tell on my condition 
and my spirits. I had a good constitution from my 
mother, and I was never strained when I was young, 
so that I had a better chance than many horses who 


212 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


have been worked before coming to their full 
strength. During the winter my legs improved so 
much that I began to feel quite young again. The 
spring came round, and one day in March Mr. 
Thoroughgood determined that he would try me 
with the phaeton. I was well pleased, and he and 
Willie drove me a few miles. My legs were not stiff 
now, and I did the work with perfect ease. 

“He’s growing young, Willie. We must give him 
a little gentle work now, and by midsummer he will 
be as good as Ladybird. He has a beautiful mouth, 
and good paces. They can’t be better.” 

“O grandpapa, how glad I am you bought him !” 

“ So am I, my boy ; but he has to thank you more 
than me. We must now be looking out for a quiet, 
genteel place for him, where he will be valued.” 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

MY LAST HOME. 

Oke day, during this summer, the groom cleaned 
and dressed me with such extraordinary care that I 
thought some new change must be at hand. He 
trimmed my fetlocks and legs, passed the tarbrush 
over my hoofs, and even parted my forelock. I think 
the harness had an extra polish. Willie seemed half- 


MY LAST HOME. 


213 


anxious, half-merry, as lie got into the chaise with 
his grandfather. 

“ If the ladies take to him,” said the old gentle- 
man, “ they’ll be suited, and he’ll be suited ; we can 
but try.” 

At the distance of a mile or two from the village, 
we came to a pretty, low house, with a lawn and some 
shrubbery at the front, and a drive up to the door. 
Willie rang the bell, and asked if Miss Blomefield 
or Miss Ellen was at home. Yes, they were. So, 
whilst Willie stayed with me, Mr. Thoroughgood 
went into the house. 

In about ten minutes he returned, followed by 
three ladies ; one tall, pale lady, wrapped in a white 
shawl, leaned on a younger lady, with dark eyes and 
a merry face ; the other, a very stately-looking per- 
son, was Miss Blomefield. They all came and looked 
at me and asked questions. The younger lady — 
that was Miss Ellen — liked me very much. She 
said she was sure she should like me, I had such a 
good face. The tall, pale lady said that she should 
always be nervous in riding behind a horse that had 
once been down, as I might come down again, and 
if I did, she should never get over the fright. 

“ You see, ladies,” said Mr. Thoroughgood, “ many 
first-rate horses have had their knees broken through 
the carelessness of their drivers, without any fault 


214 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


of their own, and from what I see of this horse, I 
should say that is his case. However, I do not 
wish to influence you. If you incline, you can have 
him on trial, and then your coachman will see what 
he thinks of him.” 

“ You have always been such a good adviser to us 
about our horses,” said the stately lady, “ that your 
recommendation would go a long way with me, and 
if my sister Lavinia sees no objection, we will accept 
your offer of a trial, with thanks.” 

It was then arranged that I should be sent for 
the next day. 

In the morning a smart-looking young man came 
for me. At first, he looked pleased. But when he 
saw my knees, he said in a disappointed voice : 

“ I didn’t think, sir, you would have recommended 
my ladies a blemished horse like that.” 

“ ‘ Handsome is that handsome does,’ ” said my 
master. “ You are only taking him on trial, and I 
am sure you will do fairly by him, young man. If 
he is not as safe as any horse you ever drove, send 
him back.” 

I was led to my new home, placed in a com- 
fortable stable, fed, and left to myself. The 
next day, when my groom was cleaning my face, 
he said : 

“ That is just like the star that ‘ Black Beauty ’ 


MY LAST HOME. 


215 • 


had. He is much the same height too. I wonder 
where ‘ Black Beauty ’ is now.” 

A little farther on, he came to the place in my 
neck where I was bled, and where a little knot was 
left in the skin. He almost started, and began to 
look me over carefully, talking to himself. 

“ White star in the forehead, one white foot on 
the off side, this little knot just in that place.” Then 
looking at the middle of my back — “ And as I am 
alive, there is that little patch of white hair, that 
John used to call ‘ Beauty’s threepenny bit.’ It 
must be ‘ Black Beauty ’ ! Why, Beauty ! Beauty ! 
do you know me? little Joe Green, that almost 
killed you ? ” And he began patting and patting 
me as if he were quite overjoyed. 

I could not say that I remembered him, for now 
he was a fine, grown, young fellow, with black 
whiskers and a man’s voice, but I was sure he knew 
me, and that he was Joe Green, and I was very glad. 
I put my nose up to him, and tried to say that we 
were friends. I never saw a man so pleased. 

“ Give you a fair trial ! I should think so indeed ! 
I wonder who the rascal was that broke your knees, 
my old Beauty. You must have been badly served 
somewhere. Well, well, it won’t be my fault if you 
haven’t good times of it now. I wish John Manly 
were here to see you.” 


216 


BLACK BEAUTY. 


In the afternoon I was put into a low Park chaise 
and brought to the door. Miss Ellen was going to 
try me, and Green went with her. I soon found 
that she was a good driver, and she seemed pleased 
with my paces. I heard Joe telling her about me, 
and that he was sure I was Squire Gordon’s old 
“ Black Beauty.” 

When we returned, the other sisters came out to 
hear how I had behaved myself. She told them 
what she had just heard, and said : 

“ I shall certainly write to Mrs. Gordon, and tell 
her that her favorite horse has come to us. How 
pleased she will be ! ” 

After this I was driven every day for a week or 
so, and as I appeared to be quite safe, Miss Lavinia 
at last ventured out in the small close carriage. 
After this it was quite decided to keep me and call 
me by my old name of “ Black Beauty.” 

I have now lived in this happy place a whole year. 
Joe is the best and kindest of grooms. My work is 
easy and pleasant, and I feel my strength and 
spirits all coming back again. Mr. Thoroughgood 
said to J oe the other day : 

u In your place he will last till he is twenty years 
old, — perhaps more.” 

Willie always speaks to me when he can, and 
treats me as his special friend. My ladies have 


MY LAST HOME. 


217 


promised that I shall never be sold, and so I have 
nothing to fear. And here my story ends. My 
troubles are all over, and I am at home. And often 
before I am quite awake, I fancy I am still in the 
orchard at Birtwick, standing with my old friends 
under the apple trees. 



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the person of merely elementary education. But if one can interest himself 
in the plot, and skip these learned passages, he may, on a second reading, 
be able to grasp the whole novel. Hence I look to such abridgments as you 
have made for a great extension of Walter Scott’s usefulness.” 

Charles W. Eliot, President ^Harvard University , Cambridge , Mass. 
“I have looked over your abbreviations of ‘The Pilot’ and ‘The Spy,’ 
and think them very well adapted to grammar school use. I should think 
the principle might be applied to novels which have no historical setting, 
and the famous books of adventure.” 

William H. Maxwell, Superintendent of Public Instruction, Brooklyn , 
N. Y. “I take great pleasure in commending to those who are seeking for 
good reading in the schools, the Standard Literature Series. The editors of 
the series have struck out a new line in the preparation of literature for 
schools. They have taken great works of fiction and poetry, and so edited 
them as to omit what is beyond the comprehension, or what would weary 
the attention, of children in the higher grades of elementary schools. The 
books are published in good form and at so low a rate as to bring literature 
that too seldom finds its way into the schools, not only within the compre- 
hension, but within the purchasing power, of all school children.” 


STANDARD LITERA TUBE' SERIES. 


Walter B. Gunnison, Principal Erasmus Hall High School , Brooklyn , 
N. Y. “I have watched with much interest the issues of the new Standard 
Literature Series, and have examined them all with care. I regard them as 
a distinct addition to the school literature of our country. The selections 
are admirable — the annotations clear and comprehensive, and the form con- 
venient and artistic. The thorough adaptation of the work to the minds of 
the young for whom this series is intended, shows the hand of a practical 
teacher.” 

A. E. Winship, Editor “ Journal of Education /’ Boston , Mass. “I 
desire to acknowledge, after many days, the volumes * Kenilworth ’ and 
‘ Harold,’ in the Standard Literature Series. I am much pleased with these 
books. It is a great service which you are rendering the schools. Our 
children must read all the British-American classics which have any bearing 
upon history, and, with all that is absolutely required of them in this day, 
they cannot do what they must do. There is a conflict of ‘ oughts.’ You 
make it possible, here, for the child to get all he needs of each of all the 
books he must read. It is a great service. I admire the appreciation of the 
editors of their text. 

C. B. Gilbert, Superintendent of Schools, Newark, N. f. “ The 
Standard Literature Series bids fair to prove a most valuable addition to 
literature available for use in schools. The books are well selected, carefully 
edited, and supplied with valuable notes and maps. ‘ Harold, the Last of 
the Saxon Kings,’ may serve as a type. For classes in English history it 
will prove invaluable, giving, as it does in the language of a master, a most 
vivid picture of early England; its struggles and its people. The Introduc- 
tion paves the way for what is to follow. The portions omitted can be 
spared, and the notes are just enough fc) clear up difficult passages, but not 
enough to be burdensome.” 

R. E. Denfeld, Superintendent of Schools, Duluth , Minn. “ I have 
carefully read many of the numbers of the Standard Literature Series and do 
not hesitate to say that they are exceptionally well edited. One in partic- 
ular I have in mind which was so carefully condensed as to make it of 
convenient size for a school reading book, and yet no part of the essentially 
connected matter was omitted.” 

Henry R. Sanford, Institute Conductor for New York State, Penn 
Yan, A T . V. “You are doing a good thing in thus giving to the public 
cheap editions of standard literature.” 

W. H. Hockenberry, Superintendent , Chambersburg , Pa. “ ‘ The 
Spy,’ for school use, is so condensed and supplied with useful notes as to 
make it a good book for supplementary reading in schools.” 


STANDARD LITERA TURE SERIES. 


Henry A. Wise, Superintendent of Public Instruction, Baltimore , Md. 
“ I write to thank you for a copy of ‘ Horse-Shoe Robinson ’ sent for my 
examination. I have frequently recommended this book to the children 
studying the Revolutionary period of our history, as excellent supplementary 
reading matter, and I am glad that your house has seen fit to put it in this 
shape for the use of the schools. I have shown the book to several of our 
principals, who highly approve of its use in the schools. I think the editors 
have reduced the size with good judgment, decreasing the size, while 
sacrificing little, if anything, material. 

Chas. M. Jordan, Superintendent, Minneapolis , Minn. “ I have 
examined them carefully so far as the books have been issued, and it seems 
to me that they are worthy of hearty commendation, and will do good work 
in the public schools. ” 

W. D. Parker, President State Normal School , River Falls, Wis. “ I 
am of the opinion that the mechanics of the books, the exclusions of matter, 
and the selection of topics for notes, mark a departure that gains for pupil 
and teacher.” 

W. S. Dudley, School Commissioner , Cuthbert, Ga. “ The Standard 
Literature Series received. I am delighted with them.” 

Mrs. Anna D. Pollard, Plantsville, Conn . “ It is just what we want.” 

J. G. Crabbe, Superintendent, Ashland, Ky. “ It [‘ The Spy’] is one 
of the very best books of its kind that I have seen, and is admirably adapted 
to school work. We shall always be glad to use such books.” 

Prof. W. H. Keister, Harrisonburg, Va. “ I am much pleased 
with the Literature Series and am thinking strongly of introducing the series 
in my Intermediate and Grammar Grades.” 

J. W. Freese, Washington School, Cambridgeport, Mass. “ It seems 
to me that they are sure to make their way in the schools.” 

E. F. Eddins, Palmerville , N. C. “Allow me to testify to the won- 
derful perfection of your Standard Literature Series. I have been teaching 
ten years and I do not hesitate to say that your publication is the best of the 
kind I have ever seen. I shall introduce it as soon as practicable.” 

F. T. Oldt, Superintendent, Dubuque, Iowa. “ The effort to bring 
standard literature within the reach of all is most commendable. This can 
be done only through the schools, and by the aid of cheap editions in 
attractive form. I like your edition, and hope to make a few selections.” 

A. W. Tressler, Superintendent, Monroe, Mich. “ I have found them 
well printed, nicely bound and very cheap. We shall be able to use some 
of them another year.” 


STANDARD LI7ERA TURE SERIES. 


E. H. Davis, Superintendent , Chelsea , Mass. “I have read through 
with much interest the copies of your Standard Literature Series, and have 
placed several of them on our list of approved supplementary readers. The 
wonder is that any house can offer such books at so small cost.” 

C. F. Boyden, Superintendent , Taunton , Mass. “ I am thoroughly 
convinced that the real reading of all our pupils should be standard litera- 
ture. I think your Standard Literature Series well selected and well adapted 
for this work.” 

Mason S. Stone, State Superintendent , Montpelier , Vermont. “Admi- 
rably adapted to our public schools.” 

G. A. Southworth, Superintendent , Somerville , Mass. “ I have exam- 
ined copies of your Standard Literature Series with interest and pleasure. 
The subjects selected are excellent and the plan of the series commends 
itself. The low price brings the books within easy reach.” 

Eugene Bouton, Superintendent , Pittsfield , Mass. “The ideal read- 
ing would take the masterpieces complete. Lack of time and money, how- 
ever, must usually make the attainment of this ideal in many cases impracti- 
cable. In all such cases your Standard Literature Series seems a happy 
solution of the greatest good attainable under existing conditions.” 

Wm. H. Huse, Principal Hallsville School , Manchester , N. H. “I 
have examined the Standard Literature Series and can hardly use language 
too strong in praise of both the books and the plan on which they are 
arranged and issued, as well as the motive that brings them out.” 

Franklin Carter, President Williams College , Williamstown, Mass. 
“ I think the idea a good one of making the reading of our schools cover 
some such fine stories as are embodied in the Standard Literature Series. 
The abbreviations are necessary, and I judge are well done. The notes 
are certainly discriminating and helpful.” 

S. T. Dutton, Superintendent , Brookline , Mass. “I am glad to say 
that I have been much pleased with the form and the execution of the 
Standard Literature Series. The selections thus iajc have been excellent 
and the books are attractively constructed.” 

Thos. M. Balliet, Superintendent , Springfield , Mass. “ I like your 
series of the classics so far as I have seen the different numbers.” 


UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY 

43-47 East JOth Street, New York 


Modern Readers for Graded Schools. 


Davis’ Beginner’s Reading Book 
Davis’ Second Reading Book. 

Davis’ Third Reading Book. 

Davis’ Fourth Reading Book. 

These books present the ‘ ‘ Thought Method ” or “ Sentence 
Method ” of teaching reading, and are the only Readers prepared 
especially on that plan. The author is Supt. Ebbn H. Davis, 
of Chelsea, Mass. 


Natural Science in Simple Stories, 

Holmes’ New First Reader. 

Holmes’ New Second Reader. 

Holmes’ New Third Reader. 

Holmes’ New Fourth Reader. 

Holmes’ New Fifth Reader. 

These books are most beautifully illustrated and wonderfully 
attractive. Interesting facts about plant and animal life are 
woven into charming stories, well graded, and so judiciously in- 
terspersed with other reading matter as not to become monotonous. 
As leading Readers, or for supplemental reading, they are 
unsurpassed. 

UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING CO., 

NEW YORK: 

43, 45, 47 East lOth Street. 

NEW ORLEANS: BOSTON: 

7 1 4-7 1 6 Canal Street, 352 Washington Street. 



LIBRARY of congress 


Literat 


Works of standard authors, edited for use in 
l paper sides, 64 to 128 pages, 12*4 cents; double 
In cloth, 20 cents and 30 cents. 


1 (Single). THE SPY, - 
2 (Double). THE PILOT, - 


3 (Single). 

4 (Single). 

5 (Single). 

6 (Single). 


g" 002 560 977 

By J. Fenimore Coope 
By J. Fenimore Coope 
By Sir Walter Scott. 
By Washington Irvin 


ROB ROY, - 

THE ALHAMBRA, - ewt . „ „..,j 

CHRISTMAS STORIES, By Charles Dickens.' 
ENOCH ARDEN and Other Poems, 

By Alfred Lord Tern 

7 (Double). KENILWORTH, - - By Sir Walter 

8 (Double). THE DEERSLAYER, By J. Fenimore Co 

9 (Double). LADY OF THE LAKE, By Sir Walter Sco 
HORSE-SHOE ROBINSON, ByJohn P. Ken 
THE PRISONER OF CHILLON and Other 

By Lord Byron. 

HAROLD, - By Sir E. Bulwer-L„ . 

GULLIVER’S TRAVELS, By Jonathan Swift, 


10 (Double). 

11 (Single). 


12 (Double). 

13 (Single). 

14 (Single). 

15 (Single). 

16 (Single). 

17 (Single). 




By Charles Dickt. 
By Nath’l Hawthc 
By Nath’l Hawthc 
By Washington Ir . 
By Victor Hugo. 

' c n/r a c-r 


PAUL DOMBEY, 

TWICE-TOLD TALES, 

A WONDER-BOOK, 

THE SKETCH BOOK, 

18 (Double). NINETY-THREE, - 
19 (Double). TWO YEARS BEFORE THE MAST, 

By Richard H. Da 
THE SNOW IMAGE, Etc., By Nath’l Hawth 
EVANGELINE, - - By H. W. Longfello 

LITTLE NELL, - By Charles Dicke 

KNICKERBOCKER STORIES, By Wash’n 
24 (Double). IVAN HOE, - By Sir Walter Scot 

25 (Single). ROBINSON CRUSOE, By Daniel Defoe. 


20 (Single). 

21 (Single). 

22 (Single). 

23 (Single). 


26 (Double). POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE, 


By Tennyson, Matthew Arnold, Macaulay, Lc 
27 (Double). THE WATER WITCH, ByJ. Fenimore Cc 


28 (Single). TALES OF A GRANDFATHER, 


By Sir Walter Scott. 

29 (Double). THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS, 

ByJ. Fenimore Coopt 

30 (Single). THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS, ByJohn Bunyar 

31 (Double). BLACK BEAUTY, - By Anna Sewell. 

32 (Double). THE YEMASSEE, 1 - By W. Gilmore Simr 
33 (Double). WESTWARD HO! - By Chas. Kingsley. 


THE GOLDEN-ROD BOOKS 

Gontuin choice literature for children. Illustrated. These are the title 

i. RHYMES AND FABLES, 12 cents. II. SONCS AT 
STORIES, 15 cents. III. FAIRY LIFE, 20 cents IV 
LADS AND TALES, 25 cents. 

Special Discounts to Schools and Dealers. 


UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPAQ 

43-47 E. Tenth Street, New York. 








